


Soulmate

by Lunadeath02



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Barebacking, Blood, Bodily Functions, Collars, F/F, F/M, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other, Scenting, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Urination, Violence, collaring and leashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 101,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunadeath02/pseuds/Lunadeath02
Summary: Arthur discovers that he can only tie with his Soulmate and no one else. Merlin discovers that he has a destiny in Camelot, and that he needs to find and tie with his Soulmate before any other alpha tries to stick their knot in. There's also something going on between Leon and Morgana. Could it really be love, or is there more than meets the eye?





	1. Raindrops

**Author's Note:**

> First Omega!verse fic. I couldn't resist playing in this genre. Info on the omegaverse is here: archiveofourown.org/works/403644 by norabombay
> 
> Also will include references from Elfquest, might have small references to other things (like Dune and Harry Potter), and I'll have my own take on some of the Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamics. A terminology will be included at end of fic and will have its own chapter, because it's quite long.  
> Another quick note: the word Soulmate is one word in this universe, especially when it's talking about an actual person (which is the reason why it is capitalized).
> 
> Dedication: To the authors who had inspired me to write better. They include: Footloose, Destina, Cori Lannam, Onelittlesleep, Marguerite26, fuzzytomato, steamyaffair, ravenflight21, Chibirhm, Shine, Malu_3, Jenrose, Shinybug, nahara, franticsga, Jad, leashy_bebes, and of course astolat! I beg your humble forgiveness if I had forgotten anyone.
> 
> I also dedicate this fic to all the old (and I do mean OLD) dictionaries that I had purchased at the goodwill and thrift stores. May the old words shine like new again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am editing the first few chapters. So if it seems off, don't worry about it. It'll all be fixed. :) I only have part one edited and fixed. The rest will be later on in the next few weeks.

.-.

**Raindrops**

.-.

          "I can't," Arthur said, breath coming out harsh and ragged. He promptly removed himself from Princess Elena and shifted as close to the edge of the bed as possible. He rubbed his forehead, eyes screwed shut. He could feel pain building behind his eyes and around his temples. His hand came away wet with sticky perspiration. "I just—I'm sorry, Elena, but I can't do it…"

          Despite the warmth radiating throughout the bedchamber, Arthur's skin broke out in gooseflesh. He had to force himself not to shiver when a light spring breeze came in from the open window. Because of the usual chemistry that went on between Alphas and Omegas, normally there wouldn't be a fire going in the fireplace. Yet, Arthur wished for one at the moment, desperately.

          The bed stirred, silk sheets hissing softly, and a gentle moan emitted from the other side. Arthur turned his head slightly and noticed peripherally that Elena hadn't moved from her elbows-and-knees position. She turned her head on the pillow to look at him and he looked away, swallowing in a dry throat. He wiped his forehead again; hand running down the side of his neck, irritated. His stomach gave a weak lurch.

          "Please try again, Arthur," Elena murmured. "I need—oh, I desperately need your knot in me." He could _smell_ that she needed him, and yet…

          Arthur shivered, but he wasn't sure if it was from the cool air or from what Elena said. His head hurt, he was exhausted, and he really needed to put more clothes on. He felt too exposed suddenly, even with the thin sheet that was partially covering his lap. Underneath, his flaccid cock lay useless against his thigh. He'd been limp since realizing that nothing he could do would make him stay locked inside her. He'd kept slipping out, barely hard at all, and his knot wouldn't swell. He had tried to imagine her as someone else, but it'd been no use – her scent had overwhelmed any picture he had mentally produced.

          And her scent was all wrong. There was really no other way he could explain the feeling he got from her. No enticing perfume, no alluring flowery scent, and nothing sweet to tickle his senses. It was sour, repugnant, and just plain _wrong_.

          Without thinking twice, Arthur snatched up the glass of water that had been left out for Elena, and downed it in two large gulps. His headache was not leaving and neither was his frustration. Another breeze blew into his chambers, causing more goose pimples to erupt from Arthur's skin, and the back of his skull _ached_. He hoped like hell that whatever was wrong with him was because Elena wasn't compatible, and that it had nothing to do with anything physical. He'd never heard of a pureblooded Alpha – a True Alpha – being impotent before.

          He heard shifting behind him again, Elena's scent heavy in the stifling air around them. He couldn't make himself turn to look at her again. His mind and body were at war with each other. He knew he had an obligation to his kingdom, to Camelot, and to his king. He had to produce an heir that would carry on the lineage and keep Camelot from collapsing. But it seemed that fate was against him from the start; no matter how many Omegas from royal families were thrown his way—female Omegas—he couldn't perform his Alpha duties. None of them had smelled right, but he had continued to try – for his king, for Camelot.

          The room dimmed and the air changed. Arthur glanced out the window; dark clouds descended on the castle. The early spring air wafted in, and the scent of heavy rain penetrated his nostrils, blanketing all other smells. It overlapped the scent Elena gave off. It was almost like a balm to his senses. His headache ebbed slightly.

          Princess Elena continued to shift on the cool sheets, whimpering softly into her pillow. He almost felt sorry for her, if he hadn't been having his own private breakdown. Arthur pushed his palms into his eyes, trying to get some relief. There was a throbbing in the back of his skull, itching with annoyance. The scent of rain in the air had done nothing to remove the irritating itch. It almost seemed to have enhanced it.

          "I'm sorry, Elena," Arthur said too softly, then with more volume, "I'm sorry. I cannot… I must see the king."

          Elena gave a high-pitched whine, begging him to return to her, but he could not. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get stiff again.

          He quickly got dressed, ignoring the sounds and smells emitting from the bed. Droplets tapped on the windowpane and splattered onto the stone windowsill. He crossed his chambers to close it, which might have been a mistake because of the temperature in the room, but he didn't want a puddle on the floor. The scent in the room immediately went back to the way it had been before, and his headache built. He took a deep breath as he tried to control the urge to open the window again. With a trained will of iron, he was able to ignore his instincts and turned away.

         Once he finished dressing into his usual princely red and gold attire, Arthur took one last look at the Omega princess. She stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes. Normally when any Omega looked at an Alpha like that, the urge to tie with them was overpowering. Yet, he disregarded the pull. Something was definitely wrong, and he needed to figure out what. The ache in his skull didn't abate. His instinct to open the window grew, but again he ignored it. His upbringing and training allowed him to keep tight control on his emotions.

          "I'm sorry," he said again and then turned to exit his chambers, leaving Elena writhing on his bed. He closed the door behind him with finality. He never felt more relieved as he did in that moment.

.-.

          King Uther was already in council when Arthur entered the room. He recognized Morgana, Sir Leon, and Gaius standing before the king. Uther looked harassed (which for him wasn't unusual); Morgana stood there with her arms tightly folded across her chest, eyes blazing; Sir Leon stood beside her with a brave face and straight back, a loyal but determined look in his gray-blue eyes; and Gaius looked as he always did: confident, wise, and unwavering.

          "Arthur," the king said once he neared them. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be tied with Princess Elena by now?"

          "A very good question, Father, and one that I was hoping to get an answer to. But I see that you're busy with something else at the moment." Arthur might be concerned about his predicament, but it was an embarrassing issue and one he wasn't too eager to speak about. He didn't know how his father was going to take the fact that his only son had trouble with his manhood. He doubted Uther ever had trouble with his.

          "Is it urgent?" Uther asked in a kingly yet troubled tone. "I can always postpone this meeting—"

          "I am not going to wait a second longer," Morgana said, voice strong and confident. "That's why I had asked for an audience in the first place, my lord."

          She threw a meaningful look toward Arthur, almost as if she were pleading him to understand, and hopefully not get too angry about it.

          "Are you all right with waiting, Arthur?" Uther asked.

          "I can wait," Arthur said, feeling somewhat relieved. "Is there anything I can do to help with whatever's going on?"

          "Perhaps you could be of some assistance in this matter," Uther said. "What say you, Gaius?"

          "It's fine with me, Sire," Gaius said. "As long as it's fine with the Lady Morgana and Sir Leon."

          "I don't mind Prince Arthur joining in our council," Sir Leon said straightaway.

          Uther looked at his ward. "Well, Morgana?"

          Morgana released a heavy sigh. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. He'll find out about it eventually anyway."

          Arthur stood at his father's right and met their gazes. "So, what's going on?"

          Uther let out a small breath. "Morgana wishes to end her association with her Handler, so that she is free to Bond truly with Sir Leon."

          Arthur turned in surprise to stare at Camelot's second in command of the army and first knight. Leon had always been seen as unflappable and restrained, a top fighter and first-rate knight, so it was hard for Arthur to see Leon in any sort of romantic relationship. "You – I didn't know that yours and Morgana's souls have met."

          "It's not exactly a meeting of the souls," Morgana said curtly. "It's more of a meeting of the hearts and minds. I am _choosing_ him."

          "Which is what we were discussing before you entered," Uther said.

          "A meeting of hearts and minds?" Arthur said, shocked. "Not of souls?"

          "You know as well as any, Sire, that meeting one's _true_ mate is a luck of the draw," Gaius said. "Sometimes it takes a person's entire lifetime before they find their mate, and even then they might be too old to do any mating or tying of any kind, because their hearts might not be able to handle it. Sometimes when that happens, they die because either they cannot complete their bond or their hearts give out during the tie. Either way, waiting for your true mate can be a gamble on your life. And it's especially true for pureblooded Alphas and Omegas."

          "Which is another reason why I'm choosing now instead of waiting," Morgana said. "No matter how many Alphas the king throws at me, I can't seem to _click_ with any of them. My body will not conform to them, and they smell wrong."

          "I wish for her to wait," Uther explained, shooting Morgana a meaningful glare, and she had her mouth partially open as if she had been about to say more on the issue. She snapped her mouth shut as Uther continued with: "It will be more advantageous for the kingdom if she were to bond with an Alpha nobleman or royal person of much prestige."

          "I always thought that pureblooded Alphas – True Alphas – were also knights and powerful warriors," Arthur said.

          "Yes," Morgana said, shooting the king a quick glare before returning to Arthur. "But where do these True Alphas that are knights and warriors come from? They're certainly not noble born, are they? I don't think royals are the only ones gifted in such a way. Besides, I believe that Leon has True Alpha traits, even if it isn't overtly noticeable. He has plenty of True Alphas in his bloodline, I can tell." Her nostrils trembled meaningfully.

          Sir Leon threw Morgana a grateful look. Within his gaze, one could decipher just how hard Leon had fallen for Morgana. The softer eyes on him looked almost unrecognizable.

         Arthur thought on what Morgana had said. It was true that Leon had exhibited many traits associated with a True Alpha (he had sensed something from Leon back when he himself had gone into puberty and came into his full inheritance as a royal pure Alpha). Although for the longest time, it didn't seem to Arthur as if Leon were any sort of competition with regards to finding a mate. He always figured that Leon was one of those non-dominant kind of alphas that would either end up with a regular Beta female or some other kind of omega that wasn't considered a True Omega.

        Leon had never set off Arthur's rutting instincts, either, where sometimes alphas had to fight in order to determine who was the strongest. Arthur had to do that before with a few of his knights, and had won each and every bout. The fights weren't the kind where one had to duel to the death – that was a completely different sort of fight called an Alpha Duel. Mainly those duels required a challenge where one alpha would throw their gauntlet at the feet of the other alpha. If the challenged alpha agreed to the duel, he would pick up the gauntlet. If the challenged alpha didn't agree… well, it was a rare thing, and Arthur's never seen anyone in Camelot refuse a challenge, yet. It was like a code of honor. When one died in such a duel, they were buried with honors, as if they had been killed during a war.

          So whether Leon was a True Alpha or not, he was still an alpha – born with a knot at the base of his manhood – and he was able to scent when an omega went into their heat. Whenever Morgana went into heat next, he felt that Leon would home in, and he'd be able to do the job properly.

          Unlike Arthur.

          "So, this isn't a Recognition of the souls," Arthur said, slowly digesting everything. "It's a meeting of hearts and minds…. A _love_ bonding?"

          Morgana's cheeks softened with a pink hue, even when her face stayed stoic, and Leon was surprisingly fighting off a blush as well.

          "So it would seem," Gaius said, smiling. He glanced from Morgana to Leon, and then looked at Arthur. "What's your opinion on this matter, Sire?"

          Everyone turned to look at him. Arthur tried to ignore the weight of those eyes, coughed into a fist, said, "Well… it seems to me that they should be allowed their bond. I mean—might as well. Morgana's just going to do whatever she wants anyway."

          "Thank you, Arthur," Morgana said, smirking a little. "At least someone here understands."

          "I do understand your point as well, Father," Arthur continued swiftly, careful not to take one side completely. "After all, you only want what's best for her, and I know where you're coming from, because I too wish nothing but the best for our Morgana."

          Morgana squirmed a little from the sentiment coming out of her stepbrother's mouth.

          "Still," Arthur went on, "I think of Leon as my brother, and he soon might be, and I can think of no one else more worthy to give Morgana away to. Sir Leon is honorable, fair, and just; and I believe he will treat Morgana with respect and kindness, whether she deserves it or not."

          Sir Leon clapped Arthur on the arm. "Thank you, Sire. That means a lot to me."

          Morgana smiled and nodded at him. "Yes, thank you, Arthur. I suppose I should take what you've said as a compliment."

          "It was meant as one," Arthur said, smiling back.

          "Well said, Sire," Gaius said, nodding sagely. He then turned to the king. "Well, my lord, what say you?"

          Uther had his lips pursed, as if contemplating everything he'd heard. Arthur could tell by his father's expressions that he was giving in as the moments marched on. Uther's eyes had started out steely, but they transformed into a softer quality. Uther closed his eyes, pained or annoyed – it wasn't understood which – opened them and ogled Leon a while and then Morgana.

          "Well," he finally voiced, "it seems to me that I really have no say in this, especially since I'm being outvoted—"

          A real smile broke out on Morgana's face. Leon was relieved, his shoulders sagging.

          "You'll let the connection with my Handler dissolve, then?" Morgana said, hopeful. She gingerly fingered the Dampening Collar that was clasped around her neck. It was made out of soft leather and cold iron, and in the middle it had a stylized Ω – the symbol for Omega.

          Uther let out a long, shaky sigh, as if it costed him much in what he was about to say. "…Yes. As of this evening, after supping, your connection with your Handler shall be terminated, and Sir Leon will be allowed to court you until you come into your heat—"

          Morgana threw her arms around the king's shoulders, startling everyone present. Uther was especially shocked, because it was rare for Morgana to show so much emotion in front of others, even if they were people that she knew and trusted.

          Then, in her happiness, she turned and gave Arthur a bear hug. Grinning with real brotherly affection toward her, he hugged her back.

          "Well done," he said softly.

          "I don't know if I could have persuaded him without you," she said quietly into his shoulder. "Thank you, Arthur."

          "You're welcome. Just remember not to get caught outside in public somewhere when you come into your heat. No one wants to see Leon stuck in you while you waddle to your private quarters."

          Outraged, Morgana smacked him on the shoulder. "Arthur! That's incredibly tactless!" But then a few seconds later she sent him a half smile. Arthur smirked back, knowing their deep sibling emotions were at the core of the teasing.

          "Well, now that that's taken care of," Uther said, clearing his throat. "Wasn't there something you wanted to talk to me about, Arthur?"

          Some of the elation of the moment disappeared, and Arthur almost thought about ignoring his immediate problem. However, since it was already addressed to the king when he'd first arrived, and the fact that Elena might waltz in any minute—if she was in control of her heat again, that was—he might as well come clean.

          "Well, Father, uh…" Arthur looked over at Morgana and Leon, and in a split second decision, said, "Morgana, Sir Leon, could you give us some privacy?"

          "Oh, I see how it is," Morgana said, but without malice. "It's fine if you're involved in our meeting, but you don't want us around for yours."

          "It's a bit of a delicate situation," Arthur said apologetically. "I'm sorry, Morgana, but you'll probably hear about it later anyway, so—"

          "So why not let us stay, then?" she said.

          Leon, bless him, understood Arthur's plight, even if he didn't know just what it entailed, and took a firm grip on Morgana's shoulders. "Come on, beloved. Let Prince Arthur have his private talk with the king. I'm sure it isn't really anything we should be concerned about."

          Morgana tried to fight him, but in the end she succumbed. Before leaving, she waved a meaningful finger into Arthur's face. "You will tell me what's going on. If not, I shall be very put out. It isn't fair that you can know my dealings but I cannot know yours."

          "I promise," Arthur said. "I'll tell you about it later."

          "Good. Make sure that you do." She then allowed Leon to steer her away, head held high. Leon ran a soothing hand across her back and shoulders as they left.

          "Sir Leon seems to know how to handle her," Arthur said as he continued to stare after them. "Don't you agree, Father?"

          "I must admit, he does seem to be a good match for her. I wish I had noticed their budding relationship sooner, though. The little sneak." Uther didn't even need to say just who the sneak was—Arthur knew. He'd had enough experience when it came to dealing with his stepsister.

          He chuckled under his breath. "You know Morgana, Father – when she wants something there is very little that can get in her way. She must have known that telling you about her and Leon too soon would ruin things for them."

          He had to admire his stepsister in that. Even he was a little frightened of her whenever she had something within her sights. To refuse her anything was tantamount to suicide. She was rather obstinate for an Omega, which wasn't often sought. It made Arthur idly wonder if his Omega would be like that. Might not be so bad, actually. He wasn't sure if he wanted an Omega that always submitted to him without question. That could become very boring. He wouldn't mind the tug-of-war for power between himself and his mate. He'd take an Adamant Omega over one that was exceedingly subservient any day.

          The king turned back to him. "So, Arthur—what is so important that you must discuss with me without an audience?" He glanced at Gaius as if suddenly remembering that they weren't alone after all. "Do you wish for Gaius to leave as well?"

          Arthur thought on it, but in the end, he shook his head. "He can stay."

          Gaius gave Arthur a small smile and bowed. "Thank you for your trust in me, Sire."

          "It's best if Gaius stayed anyway, because of what I'm about to talk to you about." Arthur took a deep breath, preparing for the worst. His upbringing helped him as he delved deeply into the core of his being and forced his fears to the recess of his mind. "I don't quite understand it myself, but, well, I—" He trailed off, fighting to control his emotions. He should not allow himself to feel shame, even if it seemed out of his control. The mere thought his problem froze his tongue.

          "What is it?" Uther asked. He recognized the look of discomfort on his son's face and stepped closer. He put a gloved hand onto Arthur's shoulder. "Did something happen to Princess Elena?"

          It was a fear that was entirely reasonable. Sometimes when an omega didn't get enough water or energy during a tie, they could end up with an Ague, become Arid, go into a wild Burning, or become Fatigued. They were all dangerous illnesses for an omega, and sometimes even the best Alpha (as the Custodian) would fail their Omega in their time of need.

          Arthur shook his head. "No," he said, his voice breaking. "No, nothing like that. It's just that, well… I cannot…" He took a deep breath and continued briskly, "I'm unable to tie with the Princess Elena."

          There was a weighty pause, but it was brief.

          "Nonsense," Uther said. "You're an Alpha—a True Alpha—and all royal True Alphas are able to tie with any Omega. It is our birthright, our legacy—there are no errors in our ancestry. It must be the princess's fault—"

          Arthur shook his head, eyes shut and cheeks aflame. "No, Father. I swear it has nothing to do with her, or with any other princess." He opened his eyes and stared at his father, determined that he understood. "No matter what I do, or how I do it, I – I stay flaccid."

          Uther was now shaking his head, mainly in disbelief, his mouth crumpled in worry and irritation. "No, Son, you do not mean that—"

          "I'm sorry, Father," Arthur half whispered. "But it's the truth. I can't stay stiff, and my knot will not fatten…"

          Uther turned away and began pacing the front of his throne like a caged animal, hands fiddling with the front of his tunic. Arthur had to force himself to stay, even if his feet wanted to move toward the double doors and keep on moving until he was far away from the citadel.

          Finally, after a few moments of intense waiting, Uther turned to Gaius and said sternly, "Well? You're the court physician. What's your opinion on this matter?"

          "I have three theories, Sire," Gaius said at once. "But you might not like them."

          Uther's stern look got even sterner, if that were at all possible. "Spare me any humor on this issue, Gaius, and just tell me."

          "Well, your Highness," Gaius said, "the first thought to cross my mind was that Arthur has a rare illness that starts in the mind, thus halting the stiffening of his manhood, or it effects the manhood completely rendering it useless. But I know for a fact that True Alphas do not suffer from such a disease, especially in the presence of an Omega in heat. The chemistry between the two is so strong that it's supposed to guarantee mating and, therefore, produce offspring a hundred percent of the time.

          "My second guess is that Princess Elena either isn't compatible enough for any True Alpha or she isn't a complete True Omega – meaning that she might be a Beta that would at times go into heat, or one of those rare Omegas that cannot sync up with any sort of alpha, Pure or otherwise. I dismiss this theory too, because we've got records to prove that she is from real royal stock, and therefore is a True Omega. Even her father has had her checked."

          Gaius paused, and they stared at one another. Arthur was biting his thumbnail in his anticipation.

          "And the third?" Uther urged, crossing his arms.

          "Well, I must do more research for the third hypothesis," Gaius said. "But I do believe, my lords, that—well, that Arthur cannot tie with Princess Elena because she's not his One True Mate."

          "My what?" Arthur said, eyes wide.

          "They're called _Soulmates_ ," Gaius explained. "It has been known to happen to royal Alphas with a long pureblood lineage. But it hadn't happened in the Pendragon family for three generations, as far as I can recall, and it is possible that—"

          "No," Uther said flatly. "Absolutely not. It's a load of poppycock."

          "But, Sire—"

          "I did not need a _Soulmate_ in order to produce an heir and neither does Arthur," Uther said. His voice was strong, invoking no argument. "He just hadn't found the right Omega yet. We'll throw a feast for Princess Elena tonight in hopes that she won't be too disappointed, and then we'll try someone else. I heard that Princess Mithian had been searching for the right Alpha. She sounds promising."

          "Sire," Gaius tried again, as patiently as he could. "You must understand—a Soulmate is not a bad thing, especially when it comes to the royal household. Soulmates are bound in such a way that no one else will do, and they _guarantee_ strong and healthy offspring."

          "And how do you propose we find this so-called _Soulmate_ , then?" Uther demanded. "For all we know, they're not even on the island. I won't have my son suffering while he waits for some unknown person to make their appearance."

          "As I said, Sire," Gaius hurried on, "I must do more research. It's possible that he cannot tie with anyone because his Soulmate is close at hand and that they're—"

          "Not another word on this issue, Gaius!" Uther snapped. "I mean it. Arthur, let Princess Elena know that it isn't working out, but that we'll send her off with a feast. Be kind and hopefully she'll understand."

          "Yes, Father," Arthur said. He bowed to show just enough deference before turning to leave. He didn't wish to stick around to hear any more arguments emerge between his father and Gaius.

          Once outside the double doors, which had closed solidly behind him, he sighed and laid his head back against them, rubbing his temples in irritation. His headache had returned with a vengeance. The itch in the back of his skull didn't ease up either. He didn't want to go through the same thing with another princess, no matter what his father said or did. He had to be sure that what Gaius had said was true. If he had a Soulmate somewhere out there, somewhere nearby, then he had an obligation to them – and that meant no more trying to mate with strange Omega princesses.

          Some time passed during his small mental breakdown, and the sounds of distance footsteps shook him out of it. With a heavy heart, Arthur made his way back to his bedchambers. He was so distressed that he almost didn't notice the figures huddled within a wide alcove near a window. Furious whispering made him look up and he stopped. He recognized the edge of the dress that stuck out… it was Morgana. Arthur stepped to his right a little and carefully peered around the alcove's corner. She was with Leon.

          He knew he should turn back and let them have their privacy, but something about it didn't feel right. He'd never seen them have any sort of argument before (they didn't argue in front of others anyway), and it only made him more curious. Quietly, he pressed his back to the wall next to their hiding nook. He had arrived in time to hear Leon whisper in a low, abrasive timbre:

          "You haven't answered my question—"

          "And I do not need to," Morgana hissed. "If I didn't like you I wouldn't have agreed to your proposal. You know that."

          "Morgana, please… I beg you give me a straight answer. You know how I feel, but it isn't right that I do not know your true feelings in all this. I gave you my heart, which I do not do lightly, and I want to know if I have yours."

          "Isn't it enough that I have agreed to tie with you? Must you over-romanticize things?"

          "Beloved, please—" Leon said it in such a beseeching manner that it made Arthur turn his head to watch. It looked as if he had tried to kiss her, but Morgana turned her head away, eyes shut.

          "Let's save that for the heat," she said sharply. Her chest heaved with emotion, but it wasn't understood which one.

          "But…"

          "Later, Sir Leon," she snapped. She wiggled free of his grasp and walked away. Leon watched her go, face crumpling. Arthur very carefully sidestepped over to the largest tapestry in the hall and hid behind it. He waited patiently, hardly breathing, for Leon to leave. A few heartbeats later, Leon finally left. Arthur watched as Leon's shadow on the floor grew smaller and smaller. He waited a little longer just to be sure he had gone, and then peered out from around the wall-hanging. The hallway was empty.

          Arthur silently crept out and tried to walk as casual as possible. When he passed a couple guards, he hoped they didn't sense any guilt or grievance emitting from him. He knew he shouldn't have heard any of that, but a part of him was glad. There was something more going on between Leon and Morgana, and it made him wonder if he should ask them about it—then again, it was probably none of his business. If he said anything, they might figure out that he'd been spying on them, and the last thing he wanted was to lose Leon's trust or to incite Morgana's ire.

.-.

          When Arthur entered his chambers, the first thing he noticed was the stifling heat. He immediately went to the window and opened it. Thankfully, it wasn't raining any longer, but the window was still pebbled with droplets and everything outside looked dark with water. A cool breeze fluttered against his cheek and he breathed out a deep sigh, taking in the petrichor. The spring air smelled sweet, like freshly blooming flowers, and the itch behind his skull throbbed with a pleasant ache. His head wasn't as sore as before, but his heart felt light and his senses tingled.

          Arthur hadn't recognized it before, but now he realized that it could be his heightened Alpha awareness that scented the changes in the air. It wasn't just because it was springtime, nor was it because many omegas went into their heat around this time of year. There was the hint of yearning deep in him – the need to go out and _seek_. He breathed in deeply, the tantalizing scent on the wind filling his nostrils, lightly perfumed in the fallen rain. It had to be his True Mate. He hadn't sensed it before because he'd been so busy trying to tie with other Omegas and their odors had blocked out everything else.

          Sighing, Arthur laid his temple against the cool stonework that framed the window. He could kill himself for not noticing the scent on the air. He closed his eyes in agony, a cold chill running down his spine. He'd almost betrayed his Soulmate!

          After berating himself mentally for a while, he turned his attentions back to the matter at hand. Namely, letting Elena down easy. He only hoped that she wouldn't be too disappointed with him.

         But thankfully, Princess Elena wasn't troubled when Arthur told her they didn't work out. She surprisingly understood. After dressing behind the screen, she walked up to Arthur and placed a gentle hand on his arm, said, "It's okay, Arthur. Perhaps we just don't… _click_. Don't worry about me. I'll find the one I'm supposed to be with."

          "I hope that you do, Princess," he said. He kissed the back of her hand. "But, at the very least, we did try."

          Elena giggled. "Yes. We did. There's no harm in that. And it wasn't entirely unpleasant." She didn't seem to be suffering in her heat too badly, but then she did have some special herbs from her emergency satchel that she'd brought with. But he wondered if she was still wet for an alpha's knot.

          "My father—King Uther—is throwing you a feast tonight, to show there are no hard feelings, and that hopefully our kingdoms can continue to be allies."

          "Of course we're still allies, Arthur, and I'll be there. I never miss a good feast, if I can help it."

          Arthur was glad they were still on good terms. She was a lovely person, very sweet, if a little clumsy at times. He had thought that all princesses were trained in the arts of decorum and grace, but somehow Elena must have missed that lesson.

         Coming to a sudden decision, Elena proposed that they rode together to pass the time. Arthur agreed, if only to help ease the itchiness behind his skull. Thankfully, the rain held out, even though there were dark clouds looming on the horizon. Arthur mounted his usual loyal steed and Elena was given a particularly sweet mare. If anyone were to watch them, they could have sworn the two were made for each other. Both were fair-haired, although one lighter than the other—both had sparkling blue eyes, both were incredibly attractive, and both enjoyed the freedoms outside the castle.

          But no matter the likenesses between them, and the compatibleness, Arthur could only see Elena as a little sister. It was especially true now, now that he'd sensed his True Mate.

         They raced on their horses to alleviate the remainder of their energy (mostly hers), and she surprised him in how well she rode. The urgent scent on the air was strengthening, but he steeled himself, forcing his instincts to ignore it. It wouldn't be prudent if he suddenly rode off and left Elena on her own. And besides, his father would never forgive him.

         By the time they'd returned, it was well after four o'clock. They laughed and talked along the way, and it filled Arthur with relief. They could still be friends, and he had promised her that if there was anything she needed, he would always be there for her.

          "Unless you're tied up," she said a moment later, and then laughed. "Oh, I made a joke there! Because, uh, you could be with someone… tied to them, I mean, and if you are then chances are that you'd be a while, so…"

          Arthur chuckled. "Yes, I know what you mean."

          Before they entered the castle, she stopped him and said, "Please don't worry for me. I'll be fine. I mean, it isn't every day that someone of such pedigree and social standing rejects you, but still—"

          "Believe me, Princess, if my body had worked the way it was supposed to…"

          Elena nodded, patting Arthur's arm in understanding. "It's fine, Arthur, really. Let's not dwell on it. Let's just have fun at the feast."

          Arthur gave her a small grateful smile. Then he offered her his arm. "You're so right, my lady. Shall we?"

          "Indeed we shall," she beamed, taking his arm.

.-.

          Arthur was supposed to get ready for the feast, but his mind wouldn't rest. He fought the need to see Morgana or Leon and talk to them. Instead, he decided to concentrate on his own problem. In that, at least, he could find some sort of solution.

          He sought out Gaius immediately after he had dropped Elena off at her guest chambers. He knew that the old physician would still do research on his problem, even if the king told him to drop it. Arthur saw that his hunch was right the moment he walked into Gaius's quarters.

          The old man had books strewn on his tabletop, many still leafed open, but some closed and stacked on top of one another. The candle Gaius was using to read with had melted halfway already, the flame a bright beckon in the shadowy room. Gaius' eyes were getting on in years, so he needed a candle in order to see better, even if the sun hadn't fully set yet. The dark clouds on the horizon were closer, partially blocking some of the remaining sunshine. It was evident to anyone that it was nearing suppertime, but Arthur's mind was too occupied with other issues to fully pay attention.

          "Oh, Sire," Gaius said when he noticed Arthur calmly walk in. "I had a feeling you'd still want me to do that research. I may not be an alpha myself, but I've known a few in my days and I know that the issue you're dealing with is a crucial one. So I took it upon myself to help you, even if the king doesn't wish to hear the truth."

          "Thanks, Gaius. I knew I could count on you. I only wish I hadn't said anything in front of my father. I should have just come to you."

          "Perhaps, but I think you did the right thing; the king has the right to know when something important is happening to you… or is bothering you in any way."

          Arthur stood on the opposite side of the table. His fingers itched to look through some of the unopened tomes, but for all he knew Gaius could have already read them. Instead, he watched Gaius as he pored over a heavy looking one, the pages yellowing and the corner turned down.

          "No luck so far then?" he said.

          "I'm afraid not, Sire. I found many interesting subjects on Alphas and Omegas and everything else in between, but so far there's nothing about an Alpha unable to… er… perform properly."

          That didn't sound promising, but he had faith in the old physician and his ability to scour for answers. After a bit, Arthur got tired of standing; he pulled up a second chair and sat at the table. He put his chin in his hands and sighed. He tried not to dwell much on his fear – that he might be forever impotent – as he watched Gaius scan his books.

          "Can I help at all?" he finally asked.

          "I'm not sure if you'd have more luck than me, Sire, but if you really feel the need, go ahead. This pile," Gaius indicated the stack of books at his left, "I've already looked through, but not this pile," he finished, waving a hand at the stack on his right.

          Deciding he probably wouldn't get any peace of mind anyway, Arthur grabbed a book from the top of the pile on his left and started to scan the first few pages. One chapter talked about the history of famous True Alphas—princes, kings, dukes, warlords, and warlocks—but found no mention of difficulties tying. Of course, these True Alphas wouldn't have problems, thought Arthur angrily: they were _famous_. They'd never have difficulties getting erect and tying with their respective Omegas.

          Some time later, dark clouds loomed over a pink and orange horizon, dimming the room further. Droplets pattered lightly on the windows and roof. The candle was down a few more marks and the flame waned. Gaius removed the glasses on his nose to rub his eyes. Arthur closed his sixth book and stuck it in the done pile, then joined Gaius in a slight breather.

          "Maybe we're approaching this the wrong way," Arthur said, breaking the somber silence. "Maybe we should be looking up information about Soulmates."

          Gaius's head flew up, eyes wide. "My lord, you may have something there! Why didn't I think of it before?" He bustled over to his bookshelf and quickly scanned the spines. Arthur was just about to ask him if he needed more light to see when Gaius's quick hands removed three books: one from a high shelf, one from the middle, and one from the low. It briefly made Arthur wonder why those books weren't together in the first place. Then again, he didn't know what Gaius's order system was and didn't want to sound bossy at the moment.

          "These may or may not help," Gaius said. He set down two in front of himself and handed one to Arthur. "We'll look through them together. You take the lightest one, your Highness."

          With a nod, Arthur complied and immediately began to skim through it. The book didn't have just lovely handwriting, but it also had pictures. There was one picture in particular that depicted what the Alpha's penis looked like limp and then erect, the knot at the base fully swollen. Arthur was glad for the dimness of the room, otherwise he'd have to explain to Gaius why his face was so red. He quickly turned the page and was relieved to find no pictures but a lot of curly and blocky lettering. When he noticed the words 'Alpha' and 'knotting', he read the pages with more care.

          Minutes passed by, and Arthur was almost ready to give up, his eyes sore and heavy, when his gaze skimmed over the word 'Soulmates'. He blinked a few times, waiting for his eyes to re-focus, before he realized that he had indeed read that correctly.

          "Gaius! I think I found something," he said excitedly.

          "Really?" Gaius said, echoing Arthur's enthusiasm. "Well, what's it say, Sire?"

          Arthur read aloud: "At times, a True Alpha cannot mate with anyone, whether it be a True Omega or not, because that True Alpha's _Soulmate_ , their True Omega Mate, is close by and about to go into their Heat—or has already gone into their Heat. The scent of the True Omega can be so potent at times that the True Omega's Soulmate—the True Alpha—can sense it from miles away. The distance apart from each other determines the frequency and strength of the True Alpha's reactions. Exceptions to this rule include those that can use magic. If the True Omega is a sorcerer, and is fairly powerful, then the distance has no meaning. The connection they share is very strong and it is highly likely they will meet during their lifetimes.

          "The only known way of locating the True Alpha's Soulmate is to allow the True Alpha (and even the True Omega) to roam the land and to pay close attention to their surroundings. Not much else is known about True Alpha and True Omega Soulmates or their mating habits. It is considered uncommon and typically not a living to be coveted. There is one rumor about them, and that is that Soulmates have secret names deep within their minds. Legends say these _soul names_ are usually not known to the owners of the names, but will come to light once skin touches skin."

          Arthur looked up from the page and stared at Gaius, conveying with only his eyes that he hoped that the old man had any ideas about what he'd just read.

          Gaius hummed in thought, eyebrows knitted tightly together. "It would seem, Sire, that the only thing you can do is go on many outings and hope for the best. If what it says is true, then you should be able to meet your Soulmate."

          "What's this about having a soul name?" Arthur asked. "Do you know what it's talking about?"

          "I believe it means that you and your intended mate have secret names deeply embedded within your minds. They won't be known to either of you until you touch each other."

          "Skin to skin," Arthur murmured. His face suffused with hot blood, and he was again thankful there wasn't much light. "Um, does it matter what skin? I mean can it just be a handshake or does it need to be something sensual, like a kiss?"

          "I imagine it would be anything. Maybe even just your fingertips or a light touch of a hand to the face. Anything."

          Arthur bit his bottom lip. He tried to envision what his Omega would look like, but all that his mind supplied for him was someone tall, maybe about his height, with dark hair and elfin features. He then tried imagining his hand lightly caressing his Omega's face, and his groin throbbed. Embarrassed by his own imagination, he shook his head roughly and the dream Omega disappeared from his mind's eye. He immediately forgot the features he'd dreamed up.

          "I have a soul name, then?" he said, willing himself to return to the main topic. It would not be a good idea to have even a slight boner while speaking with Gaius. But he was secretly pleased to learn that he wasn't forever impotent after all.

          "I'm certain that you do, Sire," Gaius said. "But you needn't worry. You'll know it the moment your skin comes into contact with your Omega's skin."

          "So, how am I to know of them?" Arthur said. He rubbed his face with both hands. "By scent or on sight, or what?"

          "I do not recall," Gaius said slowly, as if he were thinking on it. Arthur raised his head to see Gaius staring resolutely at the book in front of him, as if he could glean the knowledge from it without reading anything. "It is possible that you'll know by scent or sight. I've heard of both happening when an alpha and an omega meet for the first time. Their eyes lock and they just… _click_."

          "Do you think that's what happened with Morgana and Leon? Or did it come slowly for them?" He hoped it was a mutual thing. The last thing he wanted to hear was that Morgana had somehow coerced Leon into the match.

          "No one but the two knows. Only way to know for sure is to ask them," Gaius said.

          Arthur nodded, filing it away in his mind for later when he could confront them, or maybe just Leon (he was less afraid of approaching Leon than his stepsister). He didn't want to stop at the one book just because he thought he found everything out, though. There might be more to the whole Soulmate thing written somewhere else.

          After a while, Gaius stood and opened his window a crack. Sounds of gently falling rain was actually relaxing. The clean smell washed away all other scents like a balm. Yet, penetrating through the crisp smell of rain came the unmistakable aroma of his mate—nudging his mind and urging him to go out and Hunt. They were still out there somewhere, and even though Arthur was determined to get information about his predicament, the heady scent he sensed beckoned him. He had to grit his teeth and ignore the call. His royal bearing aided him, as well as his knight training. A lesser man would have succumbed long ago and went chasing after the faintest whiff.

          Minutes later, Gaius noticed the silent fight going on within Arthur, so he crossed back to the window and shut it. Sounds and smells diminished, and Arthur could breathe a little easier.

          "I apologize, Sire," Gaius said as he sat back down. "I didn't mean to forget that you were battling with your alpha instincts. I only wanted to get some fresh air."

          "It's all right, Gaius. I've been fighting my innate urges for most of the day. What's a few more hours of torture?"

          Gaius gave him a pitying look, and Arthur tried to ignore it, even if he wanted to tell the old man he didn't need his pity. He was sure he wasn't the only True Alpha in the world to be suffering the way he was. The answers he needed were vital to not just his sanity but to his kingdom.

          And he needed his Soulmate, for more than one urgent reason. Most recent being his father's insistent matchmaking. He wasn't sure how long he could hold out.

 


	2. Mists and Sprays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this now because I don't know when I'll be able to post again. Either next week or the week after. It all depends on RL and what's going on. :)

.-.

 

**Mists and Sprays**

.-.

 

          Arthur was nearly late for the feast. In his quest to find out more answers to his unending questions, he almost forgot that they were throwing a feast for Princess Elena. Afterwards, Morgana would have her Dampening Collar removed for the first time since it had been put on her years ago.

 

          They had both been rather young when it'd happened. Morgana had accidentally done magic one night. It was in sync with the time she'd gone into her first heat. The laws on magic and its users were strict. Anybody that showed a strong magical ability was fitted with a Dampening Collar. It served two purposes: 1) it suppressed a person's magic so that they couldn't do any big spells—just small, harmless ones; 2) it smothered the Omega's heat. The latter was discovered when the first magic-using omega had been collared. Not only could the omega not use big "Magick", but also they couldn't go into their usual heat cycle either.

 

There were unfortunate circumstances that came with the Dampening Collar. The suppressed Omega would, at times, express irritation, mood swings, weepiness, aggravation, headaches, and sometimes rashes. Once the collar was removed, their bodies went back to normal. When they entered into their heat for the first time since the collar was placed on them, it would hit them hard. Their magic was usually more potent as well once it was no longer suppressed.

 

          The Dampening Collar—also called a Dampener—was fashioned out of cold iron and infused with an opaline fiery jewel that helped suppression. Arthur didn't know the particulars because he never had the need to – he was an Alpha. He also wasn't a sorcerer. He'd helped locate sorcerers and had watched the collars being put on them, but other than that he really hadn't been all that interested. If it didn't concern him, then why care?

 

          He should care, he thought to himself angrily. His own stepsister had been collared and suppressed; she'd lost some of her freedom, and he knew that every day since then she'd been determined to do whatever it took to regain that freedom. He wondered if what she was doing now was part of some elaborate scheme, and he couldn't help feel sorry for Leon. He hoped like hell that she did have some love for him; otherwise, why decide to tie with someone in the first place? And would they actually _click_ once Leon got his knot into her? Or would it end in frustration?

 

          Arthur's manservant dressed him quickly, and when it came to the details, Arthur shooed him away and did it himself. His manservant, Morris, hung around to brush the back of his jacket while Arthur checked himself in the mirror and fixed his fringe. Declaring himself finished, even if Morris thought that he wasn't, Arthur dashed out of his room and headed to the feast.

 

          He arrived just in time for the king's toast and then everyone sat down when the king sat. Princess Elena sat on his other side, and Arthur quickly took her hand into his and kissed the back of it.

 

          "Princess Elena," he intoned.

 

          "Evening, Prince Arthur," she said. "Glad you could make it." She smiled, her eyes twinkling with recognizable mirth.

 

          "It was a close thing," he said, winking.

 

          "Well, now that we're all finally here, let's eat," the king said.

 

          Although it was an average feast, Arthur noted the usual foods laid out that were given to Omegas. There were treats for Alphas as well, but since it was a feast in honor of Elena, there was more food specially designed for the Omega palate. Arthur, of course, had a plate filled with everything Alphas loved, and then some. Mostly meat, cheese, fish, eggs, walnuts, and other power foods. The Omegas had filled their plates with their favorite succulent delicacies, such as marzipans, pomegranates, chocolate pieces, spiced pumpkin pastries, mélange, and things that Arthur knew he'd never touch. If he did, he'd need an antidote from Gaius ASAP.

 

          The lords and nobles began to eat in comfortable silence. Some chatter was held in quiet murmurs. Arthur mainly concentrated on eating until Elena struck up a conversation.

 

          "I heard that Cenred is causing some unwarranted disturbances near Camelot's borders. If you like, I could talk to my father and maybe we could help you—er, help Camelot—if you're in need."

 

          "Thank you kindly, Princess," Arthur said. "But I'm sure that we're capable of handling anything that Cenred dishes out. He hasn't invaded our borders yet, so we cannot legally call him out."

 

          "The bastard wouldn't dare," Morgana rasped before taking a sip of her wine. "He knows he hasn't the manpower to take on Camelot."

 

          Arthur smiled a little. "True. But I wouldn't put anything past him to try something cowardly. Still, if I were to challenge him to an Alpha Duel, he would make up any excuse to get out of it."

 

          Uther graced his son with a satisfied smile, and then went back to his quiet conversation with a noble lady of the court.

 

          After a brief pause, Morgana addressed Elena: "My dear, how are you holding up? Did you take enough suppressants before you came to the feast? I'm sure if you need more, our physician would gladly loan you some."

 

          "I'm fine, my Lady," Elena said, smiling softly. "Thank you for asking. I'd brought plenty with me, so there's no need to bother your physician. My heat is only a faint pain, so please do not worry. It's tolerable."

 

          "I sure hope so," Morgana said. Then she gave Arthur a warning glance. "We wouldn't want you to suffer needlessly."

 

          "I assure you, I'm perfectly fine," Elena said. "Now that I don't need to worry about being tied, I can treat myself. And I had plenty of honey and soothing tea beforehand."

 

          "That's good to know," Morgana said. She then eyed her stepbrother particularly. "Isn't it, Arthur?"

 

          "Yes, it is," Arthur answered immediately. He met Morgana's hard stare with one of his own. "I'm pleased to hear it, Princess Elena. Nobody here wants you to suffer needlessly because of an innocent mistake."

 

          "I'm quite well, thank you," Elena said, unaware of the glaring contest between the royal siblings. "It'll pass, I'm sure."

 

          Morgana nodded, as if finally convinced that Elena was indeed fine and not just saying it. They went on a different conversation about shoes, and Arthur tried to tune them out. But he did catch Elena saying how much she hated the shoes with the high heels and tapering toe. Apparently, she'd tried her best to get out of wearing such monstrosities whenever she could and loved to go running through the fields barefoot. When Arthur heard Elena claiming to have stepped in some horse chips at one point, her nanny despairing for her, he nearly choked on his mouthful of ham.

 

          Once dessert was served, Arthur finally took stock in who was all there. He'd been too caught up in his own conversations and the food to notice. There weren't just lords and ladies present at the feast, but some of the knights had joined. He saw that Gaius was even there partaking in everything. No doubt Uther had decided to invite him to the feast in case Elena needed help. Leon, of course, was sitting as near to Morgana as he was allowed. Arthur also noted that Sirs Owain, Percival, Kay, Elyan, Gwaine, Hector, and Urien were sitting around the table, laughing and eating. All of them Alphas.

 

          Out of all the knights Arthur counted as friends, the only one missing was Lancelot. It was because he was with his Bonded mate Guinevere who used to be Morgana's handmaiden (Gwen was considered to be, more or less, on leave because of the fact that she had tied with Lancelot). Lancelot and Gwen _clicked_ the moment they'd met, and that same month after meeting him, Gwen stopped taking her suppressants and allowed herself to go into heat. The two were in Gwen's home when it'd happened, and they had stayed tied for three days. Arthur was happy for them, really. He just hoped that Lancelot remembered that he was still considered a knight of Camelot. Even if Uther didn't legally allow it. Arthur had told Lancelot that he thought of him as _his_ knight, and it'd made Lancelot blush so much Arthur had worried that he'd faint.

 

          After stuffing themselves with dessert, Uther ordered for some entertainment. To Princess Elena's delight, there were stage magicians and jugglers. The magicians were not the same as the sorcerers in Camelot, which was to say that they had only a meager amount of power, and they wore no collars. They weren't much of a threat to the kingdom. Their tricks and slight of hand workings were still amusing to watch, though. And the jugglers didn't juggle just balls, but flaming torches and sharp knives as well. Princess Elena was ecstatic, clapping whenever some fantastic trick or feat was performed.

 

          Arthur also took some delight in the performances, particularly enjoying the juggling acts. He might have been amazed by some of the magic tricks too, but he didn't want to let on in case his father thought he had some leanings toward magic (even if it wasn't technically classified as "real" magic). Not that he couldn't like it, of course; just that Uther had continued to demonstrate his displeasure in many things concerning magic. Uther had tried, once upon a time, to outlaw it completely, but Gaius had put a stop to the king's mad ideas, and thus the start of collaring all Camelot sorcerers had begun. As well as handing them over to Handlers, who weren't magical.

 

          Sooner than most wanted, the entertainment was over. People were allowed to leave if they wanted to, or stick around and talk. Everyone stood from their chairs and mingled or left. Uther, Arthur, Morgana, and Gaius stayed standing near the front of the room, preparing to remove Morgana's Dampening Collar. A few knights even lingered nearby, including Leon. He looked as if he weren't trying to appear interested in the proceedings. Arthur knew his second-in-command better than that; Leon was concerned about Morgana and what would happen after her collar was removed.

 

          "Is it time, Sire?" Gaius asked. It wasn't customary for many be present during ceremonies for the De-Collarings. It was usually a private affair between the collared person and the king. Sometimes the court physician was there as well as the prince or the person's intended mate. Now it seemed that many decided it was an event worth staying for. Morgana didn't seem to care either way. She actually seemed a bit impatient, and if Arthur had been paying a bit more attention he would have noticed that she was also somewhat jittery.

 

          "If Morgana is ready, then we shall start," Uther said.

 

          Morgana stood before the king, determination writ all over her face. Standing to her left was Leon, once she had beckoned him nearer. On her right stood Gaius. Arthur stood beside his father, where he usually stayed during these proceedings. Other knights and lords prowled close by. One knight in particular was edging closer and closer, a scowl on his face. He obviously didn't understand what was happening, and Arthur wouldn't mind telling him, but he had a duty to perform as the Crown Prince and he couldn't shirk it.

 

Then again, the De-collaring event was usually not advertised publicly until after the ceremony. It was the way of things, because Uther didn't like letting too many know that a person of magic was free from their bondage. A sorcerer of great power wouldn't normally get an easy assent from the king, but Morgana was different—she was his ward (more or less like an adopted daughter). Plus, she usually got her way. Once the collar came off, it would be up to Sir Leon to keep her in check, and make sure she didn't do any kind of magic that would destroy the kingdom.

 

          Arthur was still sketchy on that subject. Just how was a non-magical person supposed to keep a magical person in check? It was possible that Gaius had pulled the wool over Uther's eyes in that regard.

 

          But Arthur didn't care either way. He always felt that the collaring was wrong, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not yet, anyway.

 

          "I am ready, my lord," Morgana said, her chin raised and eyes hard. Arthur hoped, for Leon's sake, that the coupling between the two went smoothly. Still, he debated with himself whether he should speak with Leon afterwards. Maybe he could coax Leon into telling him what was happening between him and Morgana. Arthur wasn't about to hold his breath, though. If Morgana wanted Leon to keep something a secret, then there was little Arthur could do to pry anything out of him.

 

          "Then we shall proceed with removing the collar—" Uther began, but he was suddenly interrupted, which rarely happened unless the person was a masochist.

 

          "Remove?" Sir Urien shrieked. He'd been the knight that had been edging closer, not understanding what was happening. But now he did, and by the look on his face, Arthur could tell he was not pleased. "No one told me that the Lady Morgana was getting her collar removed!"

 

          King Uther narrowed his gaze at the knight, annoyed by the interruption but also confused by his statement. "What do you mean by that, Sir Urien?" he demanded. "You are Morgana's Handler. You were one of the individuals that were supposed to be informed by such a decision."

 

          "Exactly my point, Sire," Urien said, tone still shrill. "No one's told me a blasted thing!"

 

          Uther turned his blazing eyes on Morgana. "Is this true? Have you deliberately kept this decision from your Handler?"

 

          Morgana didn't waver in her determination. "Indeed, my lord, I have not told him."

 

          "And why is that?" Uther demanded.

 

          "Because I knew that he would have done whatever it took to stop me, maybe go as far as try convincing you that it wasn't a good idea."

 

          Uther then looked at the knight. "And what do you have to say in your defense, Sir Urien?"

 

          "I would have had the right to discourage her decision," Urien said coldly. "She is not Sir Leon's True Mate, and such a rash decision to tie with him is unfounded. What if _her_ True Mate happens along and she'd already gone and mated with someone else? There would be chaos in the household, Sire! She shouldn't have decided this without consulting me first."

 

          Uther turned to look at his ward. "Is this true, Morgana?"

 

          "Sir Urien is just trying to stop me from tying with someone I have chosen, Sire," she said coolly. "I didn't tell him about my decision because I knew this was exactly how he would react if I talked to him first. And if I went against him, he would have come straight to you and would somehow convince you to keep my Dampener on. I did not want any of the hassle, so that's why I came to you first, my lord. You do have the ultimate say in the matter, so whether you said yes or no would have been your decision and not because some lowly knight has tricked you."

 

          "Sire," Urien ventured, "you really shouldn't remove her collar. Remember why you had it placed on her at the start!"

 

          Morgana's eyes burned straight into Urien's. "I cannot tie with _any_ alpha as long as this damned collar stays on! Or have you forgotten that it not only suppresses magic but an Omega's heat as well?"

 

          Sir Urien looked from the king to Morgana, as if sizing up his chances. He chose to plead his case to the king, and Arthur couldn't fault him for it; Morgana could get really scary when worked up.

 

          "Sire, if you release her from the Dampener, her magic will—"

 

          Morgana suddenly rushed forward and slapped Urien soundly across the face. Urien reeled back, stunned.

 

          "Morgana!" Arthur gasped out. Uther and Gaius let out surprised noises as well. Rarely did she lose control of her emotions in front of the king. Arthur wondered if her collar had something to do with her moodiness of late, and maybe she was getting close to her heat. It was nearly the full moon too, so there was that to consider. He had seen her in a dark mood plenty of times, but the scene before him eclipsed them all.

 

          "The decision has already been made," she growled, chest heaving and cheeks blazing hot. "Don't go making things more complicated than it need be!" She turned back to the king. "Please, Sire… if I am to tie with Sir Leon, the collar must be off."

 

          Uther stared at Morgana, still in some shock, but then when Arthur nudged him, he returned to his kingly state. Realizing that he had many eyes on him, including other lords and ladies, Uther knew he couldn't back down from his original decision. He'd already promised Morgana that her collar was to be removed, and going against it now because of some hysterical Handler would only show that he was easily swayed by anyone's dissatisfaction in his ruling. He nodded at Morgana.

 

          "Yes, let's continue with what we had started," he said. "Gaius, if you would—"

 

          But before Gaius could take out the instrument that removed the collar, there was a loud, frustrating growl and then the sound of something metal clanking on the floor. Everyone looked down in astonishment. It was a knight's gauntlet, and it lay at Sir Leon's feet.

 

          "Pick it up," Urien demanded. Everyone looked up from the gauntlet to Urien's angry, red face. "Now."

 

          "This is uncalled for," Uther said. "You cannot interrupt an important—"

 

          "You will find, your Highness, that I am within my rights to do this," Urien said. His gaze barely left Leon's. "Pick. It. Up. Or are you a coward?"

 

          Arthur was about to intervene on Leon's behalf, but Leon was already there, bending down and picking up the gauntlet. Leon stared with flinty eyes at the other knight.

 

          "I accept your challenge, Sir Urien." The heady odor of alpha pheromones drifted through the air around them. It wasn't something that could be helped; it was a natural reaction when two alphas clashed in any way, and sometimes it didn't take much. The purer the alpha, the stronger the scent. It was potent enough that it worried Arthur about how Morgana was handling it. But he didn't have much to worry about; she being from good, royal stock, and learned in the ways of mastering her emotions (usually), one couldn't tell how effected she was by the lingering smells. He thought he saw a tiny spot of pink in her cheeks, though.

 

          "To the death," Urien reminded curtly. When two alphas duked it out, usually over an omega, it was a duel to the death. Not many ended in any other way. It was widely known to many as an Alpha Duel. One lived, one died. It was the way of things in their world. And the survivor went on to spread his seed.

 

          Morgana twitched as if she were about to go to Leon, but her bearing prevented her from showing outright emotion in front of everyone. Her eyes darted from Leon to Arthur to the king, and finally glanced at Urien. She looked almost undecided, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't fathom the right words. Arthur wondered if maybe she was feeling some regret, but he wasn't positive.

 

          Leon nodded at Urien's reminder, said, "Yes. To the death. I shall fight for my lady, and win."

 

          Nothing more need be said between them. Urien pivoted on a heel and left the room as if he couldn't get away fast enough. A few other knights followed Urien out, as if they had just taken sides. Gwaine wandered up to Leon and patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of brotherly union.

 

          "Not that I don't have faith in you or anything, my friend, but you want me to write up your last will and testament?"

 

          "Not funny, Sir Gwaine," Morgana sneered.

 

          "I agree," Arthur said. "This is no laughing matter, and it's definitely not what I had expected to happen tonight."

 

          Uther sighed, shutting his eyes as if in pain. "Indeed. I wonder then if it's already the full moon. Too many mad things are happening this night."

 

          "It looked full to me when I had a quick peek outside," Gwaine said. "Then again, maybe it won't be completely full until tomorrow night. Urien might be a bit moonstruck, eh?"

 

          "Doesn't mean there wouldn't be oddness happening tonight too," Arthur said. "Either that or it's all just a coincidence." Arthur's never heard of an Alpha going crazy because of the moon, but stranger things had happened.

 

          "Anyway, we're getting off-track," the king said. "Thanks to Sir Urien challenging you to an Alpha Duel, Sir Leon, we can't remove Morgana's collar until you win. Obviously he wants the collar to stay on Morgana, so if he wins then that's how it'll have to be."

 

          "If I'm to find a mate at all, be it my True Mate or not, I'll have to have my Dampener removed. Does he expect me to stay celibate for the rest of my life?" Morgana groused.

 

          "I'm thinking maybe there's fear involved," Arthur said. "Or greed. He either wants you to stay in your Dampener because he doesn't want you going to anyone else, or maybe he thinks that once your magic has more freedom then you'll use it against him."

 

          It suddenly got so quiet they could hear a guard through the thick double doors coughing.

 

          "I trust that Morgana wouldn't let her emotions rule her head," Uther said. "Besides, if Sir Leon cannot keep her under control, there might have to be an intervention, and the collar would have to be put on again."

 

          "No," Morgana said as if in disbelief. Then she turned to Leon, eyes glittering dangerously. "If he knows what's good for him—for us—then there would be no need to re-collar me. Am I right, Sir Leon?"

 

          Leon stared back, determined not to let Morgana unnerve him. "Of course, my dearest."

 

.-.

 

          That night, after Morris helped him to bed, Arthur couldn't stop the thoughts of what he'd just learned fill his mind. He tried to bring back that dream image of his intended Omega, but all that came to him was the same thing: tall, skinny, dark, and elfin-faced. Then it was lost, again. If the books were to be believed, either his Omega was about to enter their heat or was already a slave to it. Did they have a way to suppress it, or were they at the mercy of their hormones?

 

          His cock gave an interested twitch, but didn't thicken. He wanted sleep more than anything so that he could wake early and start searching for his mate. He also didn't want to waste his seed. Now that he knew he had a Soulmate, he wanted to share all his pleasure with them; he felt rather guilty if he enjoyed himself without his Omega there.

 

          After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, he finally fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of his Omega, but the shape of them didn't give him any more clues than before. His dream self tried to touch, smell, and chase his Omega.

 

_Emrys_.

 

His Omega allowed him to sniff, but whenever even the slightest fragrance came close to his nose, it disappeared. His Omega allowed him to get close, but just out of reach. When he tried to give chase, his Omega was always one step ahead.

 

_Emrys_.

 

His trousers chaffed so bad he wanted to rip them off his body. When his dream self did, letting himself run loose and nude, his cock jutted forth, filled full with blood. His Omega stood there and stared, and his imagination suddenly provided him with sound: his Omega was panting at the sight of him. When he looked down, he saw that his Omega's trousers were wet between the legs. His Omega was soaked through down to the knees, filthy and desperate. It was proof his Omega was in heat and in need of him, urgently.

 

_Emrys._

 

He took a cautious step forward, and his Omega didn't move. He took another step, another, and another… he was inches away from his Omega now. Jewel blue eyes filled his vision. Those eyes abruptly burned gold, gleaming and feral, and he felt a sudden rush of panic flood his veins…

 

_EMRYS—_

 

          Arthur woke just as he hit the floor. The bed covers came tumbling after him in a heap, tangled in his legs. He cursed and struggled as he tried to stand up. It had been years since the last time he'd fallen out of bed. It would have been even more embarrassing if someone had seen.

 

          During his dream, he could have sworn he'd been talking, but he couldn't recall a word he'd been saying. Images of his Omega were already disappearing. He tried to hold onto them best he could, but they continued to slip out of his mind's grasp. The imprint left on his mind was almost soothing, like a cool drink of water after a hard bout in midsummer.

 

          He felt bereft, cold, once the image left completely. He crawled back into bed, trying to untangle the sheets from his legs. He did his best to fix them, but he was too agitated to do much else but cover what needed covering. He shivered even though his bed was warm. He found himself half hard, but unwilling to take care of it.

 

          _It's for my Omega,_ he reasoned with himself. _Only for my Omega._

 

          He fell back into a fitful sleep. He tried not to think about his Omega this time. It was difficult… and impossible. The image of his Omega continued to haunt his dreams, and like a misty wraith, would disappear into the inky blackness whenever he opened his eyes.

 

.-.

 

          The next morning after breakfast, Arthur decided to see if Sir Leon wanted to go riding with him. He reasoned that if he were ever going to discover his Omega, he might as well do as many patrols as possible. He also figured that Leon would need a diversion before the duel.

 

          Besides, he had questions to ask.

 

          He got no argument from Leon about taking a jaunt. Arthur studied his friend and fellow knight. Leon didn't seem too nervous about the upcoming Alpha Duel, but his mouth was set in a grim line. Arthur didn't even want to bring the subject up. They saddled their horses and rode along the normal route they took when going on patrol.

 

          It wasn't until they were nearly a mile from the castle when Arthur said, "So, you and Morgana."

 

          Leon was shaken from his inner thoughts and quickly side-eyed Arthur. He looked ahead again and didn't speak for a few heartbeats. "Yes, Sire."

 

          "When did this happen?" Arthur asked.

 

          "It's been a long time coming," Leon answered easily. "Well, for me it has. I'm not so sure about her."

 

          Arthur waited a few seconds to see if Leon would expound on that, but when he didn't, Arthur said, "So… you love her?"

 

          "With all my heart," Leon said without hesitation.

 

          "I see," Arthur said.

 

          They rode on in silence for a few more hoof-beats. Arthur glanced at Leon, trying to gauge the other man's emotions, but as always it was difficult to do. Nothing on his face or in his movements betrayed him. He was like an immovable statue.

 

          "Does she love you?" he finally said.

 

          "She—" Leon paused, as if catching himself from saying the wrong thing. Then, "Well, she hasn't actually said the words aloud, but her willingness to tie with me is very telling."

 

          "Indeed. Then again, Morgana has a hard time saying she cares for even me. Maybe you shouldn't worry overly. I doubt she'd want to tie herself with someone she despised."

 

          "There is that," Leon said. A small smile graced his features, but then disappeared just as quickly. His face went deeply stoic. "It would mean… a child."

 

          "That it would," Arthur agreed. "Essentially all successful bonds result in pregnancy, and healthy children."

 

          "Aye," Leon said. He closed off, seemingly reserved.

 

          "I think you'd make a great father," Arthur said. He was hoping to bolster some courage from his old friend.

 

          "You think so?" Leon said, voice distant. "I wonder, though…"

 

          "You'll do fine. If you have any troubles or worries, I'm sure you can call on some of the senior knights who are fathers. They'll probably have loads of good advice."

 

          Leon sighed, shoulders slumping. "Yeah, you're right, Sire. I shouldn't fret much… we haven't even tied yet and already I'm worrying about our future."

 

          "It's good to think things through," Arthur said. "And to be cautious. It's a good trait in an Alpha Lord."

 

          Leon shot him a peculiar look. "Sire, not to seem presumptuous, but you don't think maybe _you're_ being too cautious?"

 

          "What do you mean by that, Sir Leon?" Arthur demanded. His knuckles whitened around his horse's reins.

 

          "The whole business about finding your Soulmate. What if you never find them? You'll be doomed to stay single and lonely forever, if that's the case."

 

          "Gaius assures me that my Soulmate is near," Arthur said. He took a deep breath and, sure enough, that tantalizing scent was on the wind. He became invigorated and poignant all at once. "In fact, I can smell _something_ in the air, and it's making all my senses stand to attention. My head doesn't hurt like it usually does while I'm stuck in my chambers, and the itchiness is getting worse… or better, depending on which way you see it."

 

          "You can smell your Soulmate already?" Leon said, shocked.

 

          "I could smell them the moment I had opened my chamber window. They're somewhere around here. I mean to find them, Leon."

 

          They were silent for a while. Then Leon smiled very minutely and said, "Well, Sire, if that is the case then I hope you find your Soulmate soon, and I wish you a very successful tie."

 

          "Thank you, Sir Leon. Coming from you, that means a lot."

 

.-.

 

          They had just finished patrolling Camelot's borders and were about to head back to the citadel when everything suddenly changed. The itch in the back of his skull was still there, but buzzing softly. Leon was looking more determined about his duel the more he talked about it with Arthur. Things were less tense for Leon, and Arthur was starting to feel more at ease with the world, until… the wind shifted.

 

          He pulled sharply on the reins, his horse tossing its head back in annoyance, coming to an abrupt stop. Arthur's nostrils flared and his pupils had blown wide. He tilted his head back and inhaled deeply. A light breeze ruffled his hair, filling his nose with the most enticing aroma he'd ever smelled. He turned his head this way and that, trying to pinpoint exactly which way it was coming from, but it seemed as if it was coming from everywhere. He could go mad from the wanting!

 

          Leon halted his horse when Arthur did, and stared at his prince when he noticed the way Arthur was acting. He soon recognized the look on Arthur's face.

 

          "Are you all right, my lord?" Leon asked carefully. "Are you – do you smell… them?"

 

          As usual with alphas, their omega mates could be male instead of female, so the pronoun use wasn't knowable. It was best to use 'their', 'them', and 'they' when the identity of the omega wasn't yet known.

 

          Arthur breathed in deeply, noisily, chest heaving. "Yes," he finally said. "It's them, but I can't… think straight…"

 

          "Calm down, Sire." Leon placed a steadying hand onto Arthur's arm. Arthur turned abruptly and stared at Leon with wild, frantic eyes. "I'm sure that you'll meet them soon. If you can smell them, surely they smell you?"

 

          "I—I don't know," Arthur said, and Leon frowned. He'd never seen his prince looking so agitated and unsure about anything before, and it worried him. "I know an Alpha can catch the scent of an Omega in heat—or any omega in general—but I don't recall if it's the same for omegas. Can you remember, Leon, if you've heard of an omega scenting an alpha?"

 

          "I'm sure they can tell if someone is an alpha," Leon explained carefully. "By smell, I mean. I'm not so sure they feel the same thing, though. Alphas have the instinct to seek out an omega and claim them. Omegas just… give themselves over to the alpha."

 

          Arthur thought on it, but only for a few moments. "So, my Omega could sense me, but—how would they feel?"

 

          "Depends, Sire," Leon said. "They might be on suppressants, so that they don't go into heat, or at least their heat is manageable. They also might already have a mate."

 

          "No," Arthur replied sharply. "Not this Omega—not my Soulmate."

 

          "Sire, are you sure it's them? You could be just smelling some strange omega who's about to go into their heat—"

 

          "No, I know it's them. I recognize that smell, Leon; it's the same scent I caught on the wind when I had opened my bedchamber window. It's the same scent that I'd smelled that had soothed my aching head. It's them, I'm sure of it."

 

          The wind shifted again, and this time Leon tipped his head back and breathed in deeply.

 

          "It's—a very alluring scent," Leon absentmindedly admitted.

 

          A strong hand shot out and grasped Leon by the throat. Leon choked on a gasp, eyes bulging as he stared at his prince in horror. Arthur had reacted out of possessive instinct and rising anger, as if Leon were actual competition for his mate. A few seconds passed before Arthur finally realized what he'd done, and he released Leon, looking away shamefully. He'd never attacked one of his fellow knights in that manner before!

 

          Leon rubbed his throat, coughing, and eyes watering. "I—I apologize, Sire," he rasped. He cleared his throat a few times. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was only… making an observation…" He coughed roughly.

 

          "It's all right, Leon–I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that… I just _reacted_."

 

          "I understand, Sire," Leon croaked. "But you have nothing to worry about. I'm no competition, believe me. My sights are set on only Morgana."

 

          "Yes, I know," Arthur said. He sighed heavily. "How could I forget?"

 

          They stayed still for a moment longer before bringing their horses round. Slowly, they made their way back to the castle.

 

          "Don't you want to search them out?" Leon asked cautiously. "They may be very close."

 

          "I know they're close," Arthur said. "But their scent is slowly fading…" Arthur inhaled again, eyes closed. "I think they're heading toward the citadel."

 

          "Which is where we're going now."

 

          "Yes, and—" Arthur paused and he halted his horse again. Suddenly, he said, "Wait here, Leon. I need to… answer nature's call."

 

          Leon opened his mouth, as if about to ask something, but then shut it and nodded. He decided it was best if he said nothing, especially with the way his prince had been acting lately.

 

          Arthur let his nose lead him a few feet into the woods. He paused a moment, taking it all in: the lush greenery, the trilling sounds of birds, nearby droning insects. He raised his head and his nostrils flared. He searched the sweetly scented air until he located the exact spot. The scent was on an old oak, which was surrounded by thorn bushes. He lowered his head into the leaves and snuffled around. Yes, his Omega had been here. He was sure it'd been his Soulmate and not some regular omega. The scent seemed to pacify the throbbing itch in the back of his skull.

 

          He carefully picked his way through the bramble, and the spikes lightly scraped at his clothes and on his bare hands, but he ignored them. He reached the oak and went down on his knees. He pressed his face against the bark, searching, sniffing… until he found it.

 

          It was overwhelmingly heady. The scent was so potent he could taste it in the back of his throat. It was his Omega's sweat, released pheromones, essence, and… Arthur's pupils dilated until the blue discs were nothing but silver rings, and he swelled uncontrollably in his breeches. His Omega's nectar. His mate was wet with their slick; their bud had blossomed and they were seeping in their need.

 

          Arthur couldn't help himself. He licked the scent mark, the damp nectar on the tree. His body responded instantly and he was half-hard already. At the same time, wild thoughts filled his mind: what if another alpha came along and scented his Omega? What if they caught his Omega's smell on the tree, and tried to seek and claim what was rightfully Arthur's? He couldn't allow that! A surge of… something (possessiveness? Or was it protectiveness?) rushed through him, making him half-mad with the need for his Omega. He wanted to possess, protect, covet… anything predatoral.

 

          Without a care, and without even considering his motives, Arthur positioned himself against the tree, crouching with feet planted on either side. He untied his trouser's laces and whipped out his cock. It was starting to harden even more, so he had to will it to soften somewhat, otherwise it would be difficult to do what he planned. Once he got himself a bit more under control, Arthur carefully took aim and… let out a shuddering breath. He relieved himself – right on his Omega's marking.

 

          Besides masking or dulling the scent of his Omega from other alpha rivals, he was also sending a very clear signal. The main signal being: "Don't even think about searching for this Omega, because they are _mine_. You try it, and I will hunt you down and kill you."

 

          And if so roused, Arthur could very well follow through with that threat.

 

          Then Arthur remembered that his Omega's scent was on the brambles too, so he cut himself off briefly and quickly turned to spray his unique cologne onto the bushes. Droplets beaded jewel-like on the leaves, shiny and clear—his Alpha scent heavy. After he was done, Arthur double-checked the area for other potential spots that his Omega might have marked. He found one other: another bush. This time there were no thorns, thankfully, so he delved into it and went to town, immersing himself into the leaves and sticks. He practically rolled in it before urinating again. His heady musk covered his Soulmate's saccharine nectar.

 

          Finally satisfied that he'd done his alpha duties, he made himself presentable and went back to his horse.

 

          Leon was still on his steed, pretending he didn't know what Arthur had just done. Arthur had the feeling the other alpha smelled what he'd been doing, but had wisely decided not to say anything. At least for now.

 

          "Your Omega," Leon said after a while, as they were about to reach the castle gates, "they're probably now in the stronghold, or lower town."

 

          "Yes," Arthur said. He kept his eyes firmly ahead of him and his nostrils peeled for the slightest hint of his Omega's aromatic scent.

 

          "Well, I was wondering…"

 

          Arthur glanced warily at him. "Yes, Sir Leon?"

 

          "You're not going to start pissing on everything your Omega has touched, are you, Sire? That would be awkward—"

 

          Arthur smacked the back of his head, and Leon silently smirked.

 

TBC


	3. Dewsparkle

 

.-.

**Dewsparkle**

.-.

          It was inevitable that it would happen now, so close to the full moon, and right before he was about to leave home.

          The rain did nothing to extinguish the growing heat Merlin felt deep within him. The crisp, clean aroma of rainfall might help mask some of his scent, but he knew it wouldn't last. He had to take suppressant herbs before any of the alphas in the village caught his scent. Hunith, bless her, had known there had been a possibility of it happening soon. She knew her son well.

          Merlin didn't even need to say anything. He just stood from his makeshift bed in the corner, slowly made his way over to the dining table, sore and hot, and sat in his usual place. There was a warm cup of herbal suppressing tea already in front of him, and Merlin drank it greedily, eternally grateful to have such a wonderful and thoughtful mother. He hadn't realized how thirsty he'd been until he drained most of his tea.

          "Here's some honey, as well," Hunith said as she put a small honey pot next to Merlin's elbow.

          "Thanks, Mum." Merlin sighed in bliss and in pain, which he knew was contradictory, but sometimes when he was in heat it was inescapable. He scooped himself a large helping of the golden treat with two fingers and popped them into his mouth without ceremony. He winced as he felt that familiar flow gush out of him, face glowing bright red. "Sorry."

          "For what, love?" Hunith said.

          "I'm… I'm getting the seat wet."

          She gave him a half-smile. "I know, and don't worry about it. It isn't the first time it's happened, is it?"

          Merlin's cheeks bloomed, but they weren't as warm as other parts of his body. "I know, but—it's still embarrassing. I can't believe my luck! On the same day that I leave for Camelot, my heat has to start."

          "You'll be fine, as long as you take your suppressant herbs every day, and eat plenty of honey and drink your herbal tea."

          "I know, Mum, but…" Merlin sighed. "It's what the Elder said a few days ago that's worrying me."

          The Druid Elder, or sometimes just called the Elder, stopped by Ealdor almost a week ago to give Merlin some cryptic message about Merlin finding his Soulmate in Camelot. Merlin had asked the Elder what a Soulmate was, and the Elder went into the explanation without looking one bit embarrassed. Then Merlin asked the Elder if he knew who his Soulmate was, but the Elder didn't, and stated that Merlin would know his Soulmate by smell, sight, or touch. Merlin had then asked, somewhat exasperated: " _Well, which is it?_ " To that, the Elder had replied: " _It's different for everyone. But you will know for sure when skin meets skin._ "

          Then thoughts about touching his Soulmate had an embarrassing effect, and he had to stop before it became too obvious.

          Hunith nodded, lips pursed. She remembered the Elder's visit and his mysterious words as well. "I had a feeling you'd be worried," she said. "I think you should keep calm. Things will progress the way they should, and there's nothing you can do but ride it out. You just continue to be yourself and… allow nature to take its course."

          Merlin had known that, too. It still didn't frighten him any less. "What if… what if my Intended hates me?" He found it hard to call his future alpha his _Soulmate_. Just the word itself affected him. Well, most times it did.

          Hunith leaned across the table and took her son's face into her hands. "Oh, my darling boy, there's no way your Soulmate will hate you. Otherwise, he wouldn't be your Soulmate."

          It was understood by all that a male omega was most likely intended for a male alpha, so the pronoun thing was no mystery like it sometimes was for alphas. It was rare for a male omega to get with a female alpha. Even rarer than a female omega getting with a female alpha.

          It was just as well. Merlin wasn't attracted to the female form anyway.

          "I hope you're right, Mum," Merlin answered.

          "You know I am," Hunith said. She leaned back in her seat. "Now, drink your tea. You've a bit of a trek ahead of you."

          His mother was right. Camelot was about two days away from Ealdor (three if he lollygagged). He'd be taking some of his suppressant herbs and honey with him, and the river was located about midway into his journey so he should have enough water to drink once his water-skin was empty. He'd be sleeping a few hours during the hike, which meant he might get to have _that_ dream, again.

          Last night, the same as almost every night this week, Merlin had had strange and erotic dreams. They'd been about his Soulmate, he was sure of it now. The dreams had started right after the day the Druid Elder had visited to tell Merlin about his destiny. The Elder hadn't expound on it much, though, no matter how many times Merlin had asked.

          Every time he had the dream, he'd wake up sweaty, breathless, sticky wet with slick, and impossibly hard. There had also been a name, he was sure of it. He'd been saying a name over and over again, but every time he woke, the dream would fade and he'd be left with only a glittering impression of his Soulmate, and what they'd been doing. He didn't even remember what he'd been saying, and it frustrated him.

          Before he had to leave, though, he wanted to say goodbye to his best friend. He knew where Will was, so he made a beeline for the pond. It was the usual haunt that he and Will visited often, even if they weren't doing anything water related. He had many fond memories playing near the pond, alone or with his friend.

          Will was there, as Merlin had guessed. Not only was his friend lying on his back in the grass, getting stains on his good trousers like he wasn't supposed to, he had a fishing pole stuck in the ground with its line cast into the water. Merlin snuck up behind him, hoping that his friend wouldn't catch his scent too soon (hoping the wind wouldn't shift), and pounced.

          "Will!" Merlin shrieked, laying hands on Will's shoulders.

          Will jumped nearly a foot from the ground, swearing up a storm. "Bloody hell, Merlin, don't do that!" he said once he turned around. "Are you trying to put me into an early grave or summat?"

          "Yeah," Merlin said cheekily, grinning. "Or _summat_."

          "Prat," Will said, but there was no malice. "And keep your voice down; you'll scare the fish away."

          Merlin chuckled. "I doubt you'd catch anything. You know this pond isn't big on fish. You might catch a frog, though. If you do, try kissing it; the frog might actually turn out to be a handsome prince."

          "You've got that backwards, mate," Will said with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not the one with that fantasy, it's you."

          "Shut up," Merlin grumbled, smacking Will on the arm. "That's not my fantasy."

          "Sure it isn't!" Will laughed. "And, anyway, I'm not into princes. Now maybe if there was an available _princess_ handy…"

          Merlin joined in the laughter. "You wouldn't know what to do with her the moment you got her."

          "Says you," Will scoffed. "Most princesses are omegas, yeah? I may get lucky, you know, if I play my cards right."

          Merlin gave his friend a peculiar stare. "What are you planning?"

          Will shrugged as if it was no big deal, said, "Let's just say that I could happen to walk by a certain castle during the full moon, and let's just say that during said walk I run into a princess who was going into heat—"

          "You'd honestly do that?" Merlin gasped. "You'd take advantage of some helpless omega in heat?"

          Will shrugged again. "Hey, I'm not the first one to think of it, and many others had done it before in the past. Once you're tied to them, that's it; you'd be considered married. Just think! Me, married to a princess!"

          "That's not right, Will, and you know it!"

          "Hey, don't get so riled up, mate. I wouldn't do something like that to _you_."

          "That's because you don't fancy men. Just because someone is an omega, and they come into their heat, doesn't mean you can take them without their permission. What if they already had a mate? You'd be risking your life."

          "If she had a mate then she'd be with him while in heat and not walking about in the open."

          "And who do you know that's an omega princess that walks about unescorted, while in heat?"

          Will smiled a wicked little knowing smile. He tapped the side of his nose. "Oh, trust me, I have an idea."

          "And she's a princess?"

          "Well, one specific one is." Will smirked.

          "That's still revolting, Will. There's a good chance you'd get your head chopped off for raping a princess, or worse – the omega's Intended might tear you to shreds." Merlin shivered from just the thought.

          He'd heard stories from the Druids about what a crazed Alpha could do if someone were to touch their Omega. It was called a Blood Frenzy. If someone was hurting—or trying to mate with—their Omega, the Alpha would go into Berserker mode – he'd be unstoppable. Anyone in the Alpha's way could wind up dead. Blood Frenzies were rarer than regular Frenzies. If the True Alpha scented his mate's blood and fear, the Alpha's blood would rush crazily through his body, increasing his adrenaline and strength. The Alpha could become so strong that nothing would stand in his way, even thick oak doors! There would be no getting out of becoming tied, either. The Omega would react to their Alpha, and would most likely go into an Euphoric Delirium so powerful that they would do anything to have their Alpha tie with them. The coupling would be rough, possibly bloody, and sweat-soaking hot. Pain would transform into pleasure, and the first orgasm was said to be so intense that both would pass out after. Only the really strong bonded Alphas and Omegas could stand such a mating, and keep going without blacking out.

          "Like I said," Will continued, "the omega wouldn't be wandering about free if she had an alpha already."

          "I really don't think you should," Merlin tried to reason with him. "I'll worry about you while I'm gone. I'll wonder if you'd got yourself killed… or summat," he added to soften his tone.

          Will stood suddenly, staring at his friend. "What do you mean, _while you're gone_?"

          "I came to say good-bye. I'm leaving for Camelot."

          Will frowned deeply. "What, why? I thought you were happy here."

          "Well, yeah, I am." Merlin ducked his head and sighed. Then he looked up again into his friend's frowning face. "Remember when the Elder came by almost a week ago?"

          "Oh. Yeah," Will said slowly. "I remember."

          "He told me that I need to find my Soulmate. My Alpha is in Camelot, and I'm meant to tie with him."

          Will opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, "You—since when have you listened to anything that geezer says? I thought you didn't trust all his cryptic nonsense."

          Merlin rubbed the back of his head. It was true that when it came to the Druids and their cryptic words, Merlin oftentimes ignored them. It was why he'd taken so long in leaving in the first place. But then the dreams wouldn't stop, and his instincts wouldn't let up. Finally, early yesterday morning, his Mum persuaded him to go. After much debating, he had to admit he could no longer ignore his dreams, or his innate senses. He looked at Will apologetically. "Er, yeah… it's not so simple to disobey. You see, I've been having these dreams—"

          "If you're having wet dreams then I don't want to hear it."

          "I wasn't going to go into detail, you arse! I just…" Merlin sighed. "I know that it's my Soulmate that I've been dreaming about. But every time I wake up, the dream fades and I'm left with only a vague impression of him. I'm sure that I'd been saying his name in my dream too, and that he'd been saying mine, but I don't recollect any of it."

          "What kind of impressions do you have?" Will asked, simply out of curiosity, of course.

          Merlin had to think on it for a moment. It was harder to remember everything than he thought. "Er, well… I think he had light-coloured hair. Might have been the colour of straw or gold. His eyes were a deep blue. And I think he was big—"

          "Your Soulmate is fat?" Will chuckled.

          "No! I meant he's muscular. And if I remember correctly, he's about my height."

          "Sounds ideal," Will said sarcastically. "Is he a great warrior, too? That would complete the fantasy. And I could just see you swooning while he disemboweled some ugly monster—"

          Merlin smacked Will's shoulder. "Don't be a prat. And I don't know if he's a warrior. Like I said, I don't remember much. But I always wake up sweaty and wet after—"

          Will put his hands over his ears and scrunched up his face. "Okay, stop, that's quite enough information, thanks! I don't want to hear about my best friend getting _wet_!"

          Merlin chuckled. They teased each other for a while longer before sobering. The fact that they were about to part, and maybe not see each other again (which happened to some omegas who went off to find a suitable mate), hung heavily in the air between them. Then Will surged forward and embraced his childhood friend. Merlin worried about being so close to an alpha while in heat, but only for a second. He soon relaxed into the embrace, hugging back. Will was actually more than just a best friend: he was like a brother. And anyway, he was on his suppressants. He needn't worry about getting jumped, not by Will.

          "If he hurts you in any way, send word and I'll come smack him around; then I'm taking you home."

          "I'll be fine," Merlin whispered into Will's shoulder. "Honest."

          "You better be," Will said distractedly. Suddenly Merlin heard him snuffling around his neck. Merlin immediately released him and pushed him away.

          "Will, don't—"

          "Sorry," Will said, cheeks reddening. "Couldn't help it. You're smelling… rather good right now."

          "I'm – you know," Merlin said. He blushed and looked away. "But I'm on my suppressants, so—"

          "Yeah, I guessed," Will said. "I wouldn't do anything, though, you know that." Will gave him a friendly smile.

          "Yeah, I know," Merlin said. He smiled softly back. The wind suddenly shifted and Will's smile morphed into something profound, and he tilted his head up and sniffed the air. Merlin felt his insides squirm in nervousness again, and his hormones reacted to the familiar alpha scent Will unintentionally emitted. He wished his insides had gone kexy instead of his throat.

          "And even though I'm not into guys," Will said slowly, as if in a trance, "the minute your suppressants fade, I might…"

          Will's pupils had suddenly blown wide and Merlin felt his skin crawl. His treacherous arse opened like a lotus and secreted a rivulet of slick, reacting to Will's odor, even if it were more acrid and less aromatic.

          "I'll just… go, then," Merlin said in a small, fractured voice. "I promise to come visit you one day, all right?"

          "Yeah, all right," Will said, still sounding distracted. His nostrils flared, and Merlin knew that Will could smell his nectar. Will had commendable self-control, though; Merlin was sure that any other alpha that scented him would have pounced by now. It still had not been a good idea to allow Will to hug him. He was flirting with disaster.

          Nonetheless, Merlin was determined to get away, in case his best friend's willpower suddenly deteriorated.

          "Right, then. I'll just go, so… bye, Will!"

          Merlin ran back to his house, because he had a feeling he needed extra supplies. Plus, the need to see his mother again was crucial, and he wasn't one to go against his instincts.

          Also, he knew that his mother would protect him if Will suddenly decided to give chase. She could be formidable with a broom, especially when protecting her son. If it hadn't been for her, Merlin knew he'd have been tied to some random alpha long before now, and the prospect of that happening didn't sit well with him.

.-.

          It wasn't until it was nearly dusk before Merlin finally left home.

         He didn't dare leave the house again while it was still light out after that close call with Will. His mother had been sympathetic, of course, and Merlin considered it a good thing to stay with her for a few more hours. He drunk more herbal tea and ate more honey. Hunith also kept a washrag on hand for when Merlin got too sodden. The last thing Merlin needed was to let his slickness collect in his trousers and around the house, attracting alphas in droves (and creating his very own quagmire). Mum didn't need them breaking down the door.

         The washrag that she used was infused with crushed herbal suppressants, so the stink of his nectar was muffled in that sense too. Whenever the rag was wrung out into a bucket and rinsed, and the bucket became full, Hunith added repellent herbs and other smelly odors to the omega-scented water. She couldn't just dump the water outside afterwards without treating it; the alphas could detect the scent of Merlin's slick in it, and therefore try to break in and force themselves on Merlin. It was just another thing they'd had to live with ever since Merlin had gone through his nymphing.

          He should be embarrassed to be naked in front of Mum, but he wasn't. He'd been through it all before. It wasn't new to allow her to cleanse him. For some reason, knowing that he had a Soulmate made it harder for him keep his mind from wandering, and from dreaming up his mate's mysterious silhouette. Thoughts of his alpha caused his body to react. He turned his head away, eyes screwed shut and cheeks blazing.

          Still, he was used to having Mum care for him during his heat ever since he'd hit puberty. He remembered coming home feeling so dry and hot, his trousers suddenly damp with the first gush of virgin slick. He was embarrassed and a little ashamed, but Mum knew what to do, and since then he'd always felt safe around her during his heats. Besides that, Hunith knew what it was like, seeing how she was an omega too. And because he was her son, she could be a real mother bear when it came to protecting him. There was a reason why many villagers looked up to her, and why she wasn't questioned or treated any different after getting pregnant by a fugitive alpha from Camelot and then said alpha running off for some unknowable reason, leaving her to raise their son alone.

          Hunith never really talked about Merlin's father, and Merlin had often wondered why. All he'd been told about his father was that he were an Alpha—a _rare_ magical Alpha—who had to leave Camelot because he'd been discovered to have strong powers (and what those powers were, Merlin was never told). It was possible that Merlin had inherited these powers, but that wasn't a certainty. Whenever he'd tried to breach the subject with his mum, she would get this distant sadness in her eyes for a few seconds before it was gone. She would then skirt the issue. Merlin didn't like seeing the look of sadness that glittered in her soft brown eyes, so he never brought it up again.

          He had the chance to ask her once more before leaving, wanting to reminisce, but years of preservation and secrecy held his tongue. The last thing he wanted to see swimming in his mother's eyes was sorrow. He wanted to leave with a smile, albeit somewhat tearful. His mum didn't despair overwhelmingly or overtly. The bittersweetness of it was raw and sent a scratchy, burning sensation in his throat. He swallowed down the cold lump and put on a brave face.

          "I'll see you again, Merlin," she said as they stood in the open doorway. "It isn't like I'll never see you after this. I would like to meet your Soulmate one day, and hopefully my grandchild." She said the last with a look full of meaning and warning all in one.

          The mention of him having a child sent a surge of hot blood to his face. He gulped thickly, nodding. "Y-yeah, you'll meet him—both of them. I promise."

          She kissed his forehead. It felt like a cool talisman, a secret protection from mother to son, and he planned to cherish it.

          "I love you, Merlin," she whispered. She held his face in her hands. "You make me so proud. You're brave, dealing with everything; being born a True Omega, going through your first heat after nymphing, having strong magical powers to learn how to control, being visited by a Druid Elder and being told by said Elder you have a Soulmate…" She sighed. "I don't know if I would have taken it all as well as you have."

          "I'm not so sure I've been taking it well, either," Merlin said. He frowned. "I have to admit, Mum, I'm… I'm a little scared."

          "It's normal to be scared, especially in your situation. But I believe you'll be fine. Just get to Camelot, find Gaius, and he should put you up during your stay. I'm sure everything will work out fine. If you ever need me, however, you can always write, or send a messenger, and I'll come a-running."

          The thought of having to find solace in his mother's bosom anytime during his stay at Camelot made him cringe inwardly. Not that the thought of seeing his mother again was a bad thing. He just didn't think it would look good if he ran to her the moment things went sour. He vowed to prove to himself, and to others, that he could handle any situation thrown at him.

          "I know, Mum. Thank you for everything. I promise to make you proud—to continue making you proud. I won't run from the slightest misstep, or try not to. I'll do my best."

          Hunith kissed his cheek softly, keeping her lips there a few seconds longer than she had on his forehead before pulling away. She blinked rapidly, stinging building up in her eyes. "I know you will, Merlin. You're my son."

          His final departure from Ealdor was bittersweet. Even though he knew he'd miss Mum, his destiny lay in Camelot. And, as promised, he would return with both Soulmate and the child their coupling would produce, and introduce them to her.

.-.

          As Merlin had figured, he had to stop and make camp a couple times along his way to Camelot. Merlin's first night, sleeping beside a small campfire he'd made using magic, had been restless. When he finally fell into a deep sleep, he had that dream again. His Soulmate seemed to practically shine before him. The look his Alpha gave him made him both apprehensive and excited. His Alpha kept stalking him, and Merlin couldn't help backing off, a little fearful. He saw his Soulmate's mouth move, and he knew that he'd been saying a name – Merlin's soul name – but when Merlin woke the next morning, he couldn't remember it.

          The Elder had vaguely mentioned something about soul names. He'd said, _"When you touch your Soulmate, it'll come into the light. You will know his soul name, and he will know yours."_

          Which meant he had to touch his Soulmate, and he was a little overwhelmed by the thought. It would mean they would mate the moment Merlin went into heat. His Alpha would tie with him. It would mean Merlin would open like a flower in the warm sunshine, seeping his aromatic nectar, and he'd let his Alpha's knot punch into him. They'd be knotted—bodies entwined—for hours, maybe days, and they'd be forever mates ever after.

          The thought both aroused and frightened him. He was a virgin after all, completely Cherry, and the mere thought of sex—of getting that close to another human being—was daunting. But he also knew that he had to trust his instincts. Nature would take its course, the Elder had said, and the prophecy would come true.

          What that prophecy was, Merlin hadn't a clue. The Elder had been rather tight-lipped about it. Well, even more so than usual. He always hated that about the Elder. Maybe if he had more information, he wouldn't have any sudden bouts of agowilt. The unknown brought on its own anxieties and strains, which didn't improve his feelings toward the Elder. Did the old coot seriously think that not telling him the entirety of the prophecy made things easier on him?

          The second night he slept outdoors he had the same dream, but this time there was more detail. It might have been because of the full, silvery moon that hung low in the sky. There was an almost-smell, as if the scent of his Alpha was right on the cusp of his nose, but didn't invade. He heard his Soulmate breathing in a husky timbre, panting low and heavy, and when his Alpha had ripped off his trousers and exposed his jutting erection, Merlin almost felt faint.

          He awoke sticky, as usual, and oddly enough he had two fingers shoved up his soaked hole. He tore them away in embarrassment and rolled over, trying to banish the feeling thudding in his chest. He wanted to go back to sleep, but was almost afraid to. When he finally did fall asleep, he had dreams of running, but he didn't see who chased him. He had a vague idea of who it had been, though.

          When the sun finally rose, peeking over the horizon in rays of oranges and pinks, Merlin packed up his stuff and made his way toward Camelot. It was in view now, and getting closer by the minute. He felt his heart speed up. Merlin almost turned around and went back home but he knew he couldn't. For one thing, Will might be there waiting for him, and the last thing he wanted was to have his best friend's knot stuck in him. For another, his mum would probably shame him from returning so soon and send him packing, again. She really wanted that grandchild.

          And speaking of his mother, he ate more of the honey she'd packed for him, drank more tea with the suppressant herbs, and gulped down some fresh water from the river. His trek was nearly over, and he felt itchy and hot, wishing he could rip off his clothes and jump into the river, but he didn't dare. It wouldn’t help much anyway, and he might accidentally swim near some unknown alpha. That was the last thing he needed right now.

          Hours later, after he had calmed himself down, had more tea and some honey for a late lunch, his nostrils quivered wildly. The wind blew in his direction, and he could smell… something. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Was it an alpha? But Will never smelled like that, nor did any of the other alphas in Ealdor. The alphas in his village smelled earthy, but wrong. They were an acrid, sour taste on the wind, and had made his throat tickle in an unpleasant way. It was unfortunate that his own smell didn't turn off the alphas. Again, he was thankful for his mum.

          Frightened, but intrigued, Merlin jogged toward the seductive aroma. Then he heard hoofbeats and his heart fluttered hard, his courage failing him. He dove for the nearest bush, which happened to have prickly thorns in it. Just his luck to find the one veprecose shrub.

          "Ow! Bloody—" Merlin quickly silenced himself, hoping that the alpha he'd scented hadn't heard. The odor was rather overpowering, and the only thing he could do was hide. He pressed his back up against an oak as flat against it as he could, and waited.

          The sound of hooves stopped, bridles jingling. Merlin held his breath, hoping it would stop his pheromones from waffing too much. The alpha's scent was strong, and although Merlin had had his suppressants that morning, it still hit him like a battering ram. He leaked an embarrassing amount of slick onto the oak's bark, cheeks growing scarlet. His treacherous arse bloomed in a most undignified way; he'd never been so open or so wet before in all his life! When he heard low voices, he panicked. Praying like he'd never prayed before, Merlin hopped over the brambles in surprising gazelle-like grace and dashed away.

          Before he even got a good head of steam, Merlin tripped and fell headlong into another bush. Thankfully this one didn't have any thorns in it. He quickly untangled himself from the sticks and clinging leaves, and ran toward Camelot's border in a zigzag pattern. He hoped that whomever it'd been that he'd smelled wouldn't see him moving toward the footpath as he ran through the more woody area. His mind was set only on escaping as his sudden fear gripped him. He didn't stop to think that maybe what he'd just scented could have been the one he'd been searching for. His body wouldn't have reacted in such a needy way if it had been any other alpha.

          His leg cramped up so he had to slow down. Thankfully, he'd got away from the unknown alphas. He hobbled best he could toward the castle gate, trying his best to look inconspicuous. Before he entered, he quickly chewed on more suppressant herbs. It wouldn't do to attract even more unwanted alphas, especially with the dampness still in his trousers.

          He'd never been in a big place like Camelot before. There were so many sights to see and so many things to tempt him into buying. He had to save what little money he had, though, so he had to politely decline a few merchants' offers and pass up buying a pasty that smelled heavenly. He was lucky that most of the sellers were betas (and a few others were omegas, but they weren't pure of blood), or he'd have to fend off more alphas than he'd planned. He quickly went into the citadel and located a couple guards. He asked them where the physician was, and they answered automatically. He thanked them and moved on, but not before noticing one of them had sniffed the air. He picked up the pace, shivering.

          He made it to Gaius's quarters, nearly breathless, and just in time to save the old man's life.

         Gaius had fallen from a high balcony (and it was possible that Merlin himself was to blame for startling the old man, but Merlin wasn't going to look too deeply into that). Merlin moved the nearest soft object—which happened to be a bed—under Gaius with just a hard-blazed look. At the same time, he slowed Gaius down so that he wouldn't hit the bed too hard. Gaius bounced a little on his back, omitting a small 'oof!' and thankfully not a cry of pain.

          "That was…" Gaius said the moment he stood up, blinking at Merlin. He almost seemed at a loss for words, and Merlin was worried he would have to revive the old man, but then Gaius breathed out, "You used magic."

          "Uh, yeah. Was that bad?" Merlin said.

          "Well, not exactly. But maybe it's best if you kept a low profile. Even though magic isn't exactly outlawed here, you might find yourself collared and given to a Handler."

          Merlin stared at him, not sure he'd heard that right. "Er, what?"

          "It's what happens to all magic users living in Camelot. King Uther almost outlawed magic entirely, and would have made it punishable by death to have magic, but I stopped him."

          "You did?" Merlin said, blinking rapidly. "How'd you manage that?"

          "Well, I don't recall my exact words, but I had reminded him that most of the True Omegas have magic, and if he were to execute all the magic users in Camelot, Prince Arthur—or any of the knights and lords that were True Alphas—would never find their True Mates and their pure lines would end."

          "Blimey," Merlin breathed. "I didn't know that most of the True Omegas were magic users."

          Gaius gave him a sly smile. "Well, I might have bent the truth about that fact, just a little." He winked.

          "You're a genius, Gaius." Merlin beamed.

          "Thank you," Gaius said. "And incidentally, my dear boy, who are you?"

          "Oh!" Merlin laughed. "Sorry for not introducing myself. I'm Merlin."

          "Hunith's son?" Gaius said, surprised.

          "Yeah," Merlin said. He handed Gaius the letter his mother had wrote. "Here, this is from her. It explains everything."

          "Well, you're a shocker," Gaius said, taking the letter. "I hadn't expected you until Wednesday."

          Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "It is Wednesday."

          "Is it? Ah," Gaius said, sitting at his work bench. "Of course. Sometimes I lose track of the days when I get busy with research. I'll even forget to eat sometimes. Now then, where are my glasses?"

          "You mean those things on your head?" Merlin said, nearly laughing.

          Gaius went red as he put his glasses on his nose. "Yes, well… it's been a busy day, not to mention week." He quietly read Hunith's letter while Merlin looked around the room.

         There were books strewn about on shelves and stacked in corners. Parchments and inkwells were placed pell-mell on tables and other empty spaces. There were glass tubes and jars on one table, and one of them bubbled softly. The smell of it wasn't overpowering, but Merlin did detect a hint of mint in the mixture. There was another medley that looked plum-coloured. It smelled rather good, and Merlin almost edged to it, but restrained himself.

          After a moment, Gaius put the letter away, said, "Okay, I see that I was right about at least one magic user being a True Omega. So a Druid Elder sent you to find your Soulmate, and he—your Soulmate—is apparently here in Camelot."

          "Yeah, that's right. Would you happen to have any ideas whom it might be?"

          Gaius did have an idea, but it was too much of a coincidence if true. Just because Prince Arthur was searching for his Soulmate didn't necessarily mean that Merlin was it.

          "I'm afraid I can't help you, my boy. Not at the moment, anyway. Still, I'm sure you'll find him. Whoever it is." Gaius leapt to his feet. "Well, I've got to get ready. There will be a very serious Alpha Duel about to take place soon. I think you should come with me. It'll be a great learning experience for you."

          "Gaius, you've mentioned a Handler," Merlin said. "What's that?"

          "Oh, I didn't mean to forget, my boy. Well, when anyone shows any signs of having magic, they're collared and given to a Handler—"

          "You've said that," Merlin pressed.

          "Yes, I did. Anyway, a Handler is someone who's responsible for the magic user. The collar is called a Dampener, and it's supposed to suppress the sorcerer so that they can't do any big magic. The Handler is like a minder, that's all. They've the responsibility of making sure the magic user doesn't break any rules or cause any unwanted mischief. Of course, it's harder for the sorcerer to cause any sort of mischief if they can't do any big, destructive magic."

          "I see," Merlin said, pursing his lips. He'd been told by the Druids many times that he was the strongest sorcerer they'd seen in years. It was one of the reasons why they figured that Merlin was the one spoken of in their prophecy. And because Merlin was also a True Omega, they were even more fervent in their beliefs. It was said that a great warlock, born of a mortal woman, would possess such unspeakable power and strength that no _one_ or no _thing_ could tether him. He wondered if it were true in every sense of the word. If he were to ever get collared, would it work on him? If it did work on him, would it merely viliorate his magic, or would the collar cut off his flow altogether? He really wished the Elder had elaborated more about his so-called destiny.

          Presently, Merlin asked, "What would happen to the sorcerer if he disobeyed his Handler?"

          "That depends on what the sorcerer had done. Sometimes the Handler would dole out the punishment, and other times it was up to the king on what to do. Trust me, Merlin, you don't want to get caught doing any kind of enormous, devastating magic while in Camelot. You could receive a lifelong sentence in the dungeons, or worse."

          Merlin swallowed nervously. He had a pretty good idea what the _or worse_ was that Gaius hinted. "Oh. Well, then, I guess I should be careful."

          "You best do that," Gaius said. He gave Merlin a stern look.

          "You don't have to worry, though," Merlin said quickly. "I don't do that sort of thing. If I were to use any sort of big spell, it would be to save someone's life, or save the entire kingdom."

          "Good to know. Now then, let's get a move on. We've got an Alpha Duel to witness."

          "We?"

          "As I've said, Merlin, it'll be a great learning experience for you. Let's go."

.-.


	4. Pearlescent Drops

.-. 

**Pearlescent Drops**

.-. 

          The tourney stands were already packed full when Gaius and Merlin arrived. Gaius pointed out to Merlin who was who. In the royal box above the arena sat King Uther; to his right was Prince Arthur, and to the King's left was his ward, the Lady Morgana. She looked especially elegant today. Her dress was a rich blue with gold trim, long sleeved, and showing plenty of cleavage. Prince Arthur's attire was the princely garment of red and gold, and he wore half-armour. His eyes stayed straight ahead, but there was a visible twitch in his jaw, as if he fought some great impulse. 

          Gaius and Merlin stayed down near the edge of the field. Gaius had explained that he had to be there, in case he was needed for any medical reason. When Merlin had asked why, seeing how it was a duel to the death, Gaius replied: "I have to take care of the winner once the duel's done, do I not? I also have to help remove the body of the deceased." It was stated so bluntly it seemed almost callous, and Merlin made himself turn his head away and bit down on his bottom lip to keep from voicing his opinion about it. 

          It wasn't long after they arrived when the two contestants walked onto the arena. The crowd cheered, and the two rivals acknowledged everyone with gallant waves and gentlemanly smiles. 

         It was odd to see, Merlin thought, considering one of them wasn't going to leave the arena alive. There was no doubt that the two knights were alphas; Merlin could smell them from where he stood. The heady cologne from the two smacked him in the face and stuffed-up his nostrils. He twitched his nose a few times, trying not to sneeze. When that didn't work, he rubbed his nose furiously, wincing. The alphas' scents were nowhere near as pleasant as the one he'd smelled in the woods. Nonetheless, it was rather overpowering. 

         Gaius patted him gently on the shoulder, understanding what it was that bothered him. Although Gaius was a beta, he'd known plenty of omegas during his lifetime and he knew the effects an Alpha's odor had on an Omega. It was probably especially harsh with so many other alphas nearby. 

          "Which one is Sir Leon?" Merlin asked. He was trying to distract his inundated senses with babble, but he wasn't sure it was working. 

          "The one making his way toward the royal box," Gaius explained, pointing. Merlin had to admit that Sir Leon was handsomer than his opponent. Leon had curly, reddish-gold hair, and he was tall. Urien was almost a head shorter, and had dark hair. He was what one might consider unsightly, but then again Merlin shouldn't judge. He'd known plenty of kind people who weren't all that great to look at, and most of them were from his village. 

          The Lady Morgana leaned over the edge of the royal box, a red gossamer kerchief in her hands. Sir Leon moved closer to the box the moment he'd seen her leaning down, and allowed her to tie the kerchief to his sword arm. Leon instinctually took hold of her waist to make sure she didn't fall. When she was done tying her token on him, she leaned even closer to him, her hands on his shoulders for support. 

          Morgana whispered something into his ear, and from Merlin's viewpoint it looked like she was saying 'for luck', and then she gave Leon a soft, chaste kiss on the cheek as she straightened up. Leon smiled, eyes soft. It was obvious to anyone watching that Leon was besotted with her. Morgana, however, was harder to read. He couldn't tell if she was worried, hopeful, or pleased. There was almost like an impenetrable mask shrouded her features. 

          "What's this duel about again?" Merlin asked. 

          "Sir Urien is Morgana's Handler," Gaius explained. "Morgana wants her Dampener off so that she can bond with Sir Leon, because she cannot go into her heat with it on. Sir Urien is against the idea, so he challenged Sir Leon to a duel." 

          "And if Sir Urien wins, the Dampener stays on." 

          "That's correct." 

          Merlin wasn't sure if he liked the concept of the duel, but he admired Sir Leon's bravery and unabashed guts for going along with it. Because Morgana was apparently a magic user (because why else would she be collared?), Merlin hoped that Leon won so that she could have her Dampener removed. He'd feel the same way if it had been him. 

          The two Alphas stood on either side of the tourney field. They bowed respectfully toward each other, Leon's bow more gentlemanly, then turned to bow to the king and prince. The king stood and the crowd immediately went silent. 

          "Camelot is a kingdom steeped in tradition," King Uther said, voice booming. "It is tradition that binds us and gives us freedom in the same breath. It is tradition that keeps order and stops chaos in its tracks. It is that very tradition today that we invoke this ritual of old. Alpha Duels have occurred since the dawn of the Alpha and Omega, albeit much more sophisticated nowadays. Today we celebrate and honor our beginnings. May we never forget. 

          "Sir Leon, Sir Urien," the King said, looking at the each in turn. "Today will decide whom shall carry on their future seed. Today is the day of reckoning. This duel shall decide who gets the honor of courting the Lady Morgana. Remember, it is ultimately up to her to decide whether to tie with you or reject you. Winning this duel will only prove who has the _right_ to court her, nothing more. The one defeated shall lose his life, and lose the privilege to spread his seed. But he shall have the traditional burial given to all Camelot knights who die in battle. Fight for honor, fight for dignity, and fight for glory. And above all, do not forget the traditions." Uther waved a hand, signaling them to start. "You may begin!" 

.-. 

          Sir Urien and Sir Leon took their places in the middle of the arena. The two Alpha knights then lifted their swords and began to circle each other, patient and watchful. The crowd cheered and shouted encouragements at their preferred knight. It was a mixed reaction. Urien was Leon's senior, and had fought many battles, earning him a few scars. But Leon was Arthur's first knight, and the second in command when it came to war strategies and leadership. 

         Arthur had even thought about naming Leon his heir, if anything should happen to him. He'd rather it be Leon than his uncle Agravaine, who seemed to love mating with anyone he fancied. Agravaine was known for squandering funds and fighting useless battles, too. That wasn't what Arthur wanted in an heir, nor would he want that for the people of Camelot. So it was essential that he find his Soulmate and bond with them. He wanted—nay, needed—an heir of his own to carry on the bloodline, and to rightfully call the next in line to the throne. 

          One of the alphas was bound to lose their patience. Still, they were trained knights, so they had an abundance of patience. Soon it became evident who had the least amount, and it spoke volumes of the man's character. 

          "Nothing to say before I kill you?" Sir Urien said. 

          Leon stayed silent and kept circling. Their eyes stayed locked. Urien quirked an eyebrow, hoping it would urge the other knight to speak, but it failed. Leon might be younger than Urien, but he was well-accomplished in the field of swordplay. He was one of the few that helped Arthur train the novice knights. He was one of Arthur's best fighters on the battlefield, next to Gwaine. He would not fail his prince, his kingdom, or Morgana. He felt destined to win. 

          But if he _was_ doomed this day, he prayed that Morgana use all her wits in finding another way to gain her freedom from her Handler. 

          "You surprise me, Sir Leon," Urien said. "I had no idea any woman could touch your heart. I thought for sure that all your love was reserved for Prince Arthur. I guess your passionate devotion to him wasn't as passionate as I thought. I wonder, then, why you stare at the prince so." 

          Leon's lips twitched as he tried to keep a straight face. He was not about to let Urien get under his skin. He vowed to make his prince proud, and to prove to everyone watching that he had earned his title as Arthur's right-hand man. 

          "Why do you not answer me?" Urien said. His voice was losing its cockiness and swag. Even Merlin could tell he began to bend under the pressure of Leon's silence. "Afraid of everyone knowing the truth? Afraid that the prince will hear how much you _fancy_ him?" 

          Sometimes it was considered offensive for alphas to fancy other alphas. An alpha was only supposed to be aroused by an omega, and maybe a beta, but never another alpha. Not everyone thought it was a horrible thing, and Leon didn't think so, which was why he wasn't affronted. To many knights in Arthur's circle, that sort of thing didn't matter. It was a rarity, but that didn't make it wrong. Love was deemed the ultimate emotion for any person to have, and it shouldn't be thought of as a sin. No matter what any stuffy aristocrat or narrow-minded arse thought. 

          Leon straightened, adding a bit more height, but kept his sword at the ready. "I admire Prince Arthur," he said in a strong voice. "He is the embodiment of honor and chivalry. I only hope to reach his level. His goodness blinds me every time I look at him, and I am then struck by his knightly and majestic aura. I will not have you besmirching my beloved Prince. Nor will I allow you to stop me from bonding with the Lady Morgana. Now then. Prepare yourself, Sir Urien, and be ready to meet your maker." He got into his fighting stance once more. 

          Sir Urien laughed. It started as a small chuckle and morphed into something almost cruel and harsh. He held his belly with his swordless hand as he tried to hold back the louder guffaws that tried to break through. He sounded like a winded donkey that was on its last legs. 

          "Oh, this is too much… too, too much! I must congratulate you, Sir Leon, for giving me such a good laugh. I hadn't had one in years. I think I understand now how you got to be Captain of the Guard, and the Prince's right-hand man." Then Urien's cheerfulness stopped abruptly. "None of that will save you, however. You won't take away what should be rightfully _mine_. You shall rue the day you ever thought of tying with the Lady Morgana. I will tear your heart out with my bare hands and give it to her as a gift, and that's the only way she'll have it!" 

          Urien leaped into the air right at the last word, and Leon nearly didn't move away in time. Urien's blade slid against Leon's, and there was a slight struggle, a push and pull of strength. Leon had to step back a few paces in order to get firmer footing, and then he was able to push back, duck under Urien's next move, and went back to circling. Urien looked pleased, as if he realized something Leon didn't know. 

          Leon opted to stay silent again. The last thing he wanted to do was give the other knight more reason to gloat and mock. 

          It didn't work, though. 

          "I think you're not as great as they say," Urien continued. "Oh, I've seen you fight, but I think your sparring partners are too afraid to hurt you. You probably win all your battles by default." 

          Urien was just trying to get a rise out of him, Leon knew. He wasn't about to let the other knight have his way in riling him up. He kept circling, kept watchful, for signs of weakness, to get more sense of the other knight. They were both alphas, but Leon was sure he had more pureness in his blood. The scent Urien gave off was nowhere near as potent as what Leon emitted. 

          Merlin could even sense it. Being a True Omega, any whiff of True Alpha hormones sent his senses on high alert. Many alphas in the stands watched (most with mixed blood and unknown heredity pureness percentage), but the majority of the alpha scent came from the arena, from the two dueling knights. The testosterone levels nearly overwhelmed all, but the majority of the pungent aroma came from Leon. 

          "No remark this time?" Urien said, and he seemed ignorant of the potent odor rolling off Leon, or he was too idiotic to care. "Pity. I was hoping to hear another one of your heroic speeches. Maybe you'll convince me this time." 

          Again, Leon stayed silent. He remembered the lessons he'd been taught in duels such as these when he was but a lad. His instructor had taught him that when your opponent got too talkative during a fight, it meant he was uneasy in silence, and that could be a good thing or a bad thing. Uneasy opponents had the tendency to make mistakes, and Leon was going to use that to his advantage. 

          "If you think to impress the Lady Morgana, think again," Urien said. "The only way you could make an impression is if you fall flat on your face in the mud." He laughed at his own joke. 

          ' _Urien talks big,'_ Leon thought, continuing to study him. ' _But he's all bluster and no bite. He's frightened, and a frightened man can become deadly, especially when cornered. Urien could become desperate, and those kind of men can be dangerous if one's not careful.'_  

          "I'll not have you take Morgana's collar off," Urien said. Leon could now detect the slight tremor in his voice after studying the man some more, and he could sense the fear radiating off the other alpha. It hadn't been detectable at the start, but now he could sense the underlying currents of it just beneath Urien's skin. "You know not of the consequences if you do. Nothing could stop her from lording over us all!" 

          ' _The man is a lunatic_ ,' Leon thought. There was no way Morgana would be malicious enough to harm the people of Camelot. Morgana loved the people, no matter who they were or what rank they had. It was one of the many reasons why he loved her so. 

          "But, of course, a man in love will oft do foolish things. You will doom us all, Sir Leon, and I will not let that happen. The minute you're dead, I will see to it that Lady Morgana stays with me." Urien paused for a moment, and then a horrible grin spread across his face. "In fact, I may just keep her in my bed. When it gets close to her alleged heat, I'll take her anyway, even when she's suppressed—" 

          Leon started to lunge forward, his rage having built up from Urien's words, but he stopped himself at the last moment as Urien moved to counter him. Leon then twisted away and went back to his stance, fighting to calm himself. ' _That must be Urien's plan_ ,' Leon thought. ' _To shake me up so bad that I'll attack without thinking. Then he'd have the advantage. Well, I'm not giving in.'_  

          "What's wrong, _Sir_ Leon?" Urien taunted. "Losing your grip? I thought you were made out of sterner stuff." 

          ' _Mustn't lose control,'_ Leon thought. ' _I must expect only what happens in the fight…'_  

          "Let's stop this cat and mouse dance, shall we?" Urien said. They continued to circle and study each other, and Leon wasn't surprised by how well Urien kept his footing. He was a knight of Camelot after all, even if he weren't of Arthur's circle. Although all knights answered primarily to the king, a select few were Arthur's personally trained men. Leon was, of course, one of Arthur's. 

          "Suit yourself," Leon answered, voice devoid of as much emotion as possible. "But we all know who the mouse here is. Or, should I say, the rat." 

          "If your thoughts are true then I'm the biggest, baddest rat in the barn, and you're just a mangy old flea bag!" 

          Leon smirked as he dodged Urien's swing. Leon twirled his blade around to catch it on Urien's, and the clash rang throughout the arena. Urien didn't let up and he kept jabbing and slashing. Leon kept blocking and parrying. They were nearly equal, trading blows. 

          As the fight grew heated, they soon found themselves inches away from each other's faces, swords locked and biceps straining. Urien had a more snarky, amused look on his face, while Leon was deadly serious. It soon came down to height, because Leon was almost a head taller than Urien, his legs longer. Leon did some fancy footwork and danced off to the side so that Urien started to fall forward. It gave Leon a chance to draw first blood. Urien whirled in one spot to face Leon again, clutching his left arm. 

          "Lucky hit," Urien snarled. 

          Leon smirked and went back into his fighting stance. Urien then gave Leon a mock salute with his sword, but he was still somewhat impressed. If this had been a normal sort of duel, Leon would have just won. Instead of the fight being 'to the death', it would have been 'first blood drawn'. 

          The air was now filled with the alphas' odorous pheromones. It got so bad that even Merlin had some trouble keeping his own pheromones from wafting into the air to join theirs. He was on suppressants, but sometimes the scent of an Alpha, especially one in such a rage, was too much for an Omega's biological makeup to ignore. It didn't help matters when there were two alphas in a rutting rage, and one being a Near-True Alpha. 

          Merlin's uninhibited aroma reached Arthur in the private box. Arthur turned his head toward the spot where Gaius stood, but he couldn't pinpoint where the scent came from. Gaius was surrounded by other servants and people unfortunate enough not to have a place in the stands. That smell could be coming from any one of them (certainly not Gaius, because he was a Beta), which meant that one of them could be his Soulmate. He couldn't even recall the faces he'd seen last during the feast, otherwise he was sure he'd recognize the person immediately. 

         The urge to leave the box and go down to find them was strong, but he shouldn't move. It would be an affront to walk out on something as important as an Alpha Duel. He also didn't want to disgrace Leon, who wasn't only the first knight and Captain of the Guards, but a good friend. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Leon any discomfort. Besides, if Leon saw he'd left, it might discourage Leon so much that he might lose the fight. 

          No. No matter how badly Arthur wanted to go down and find his Intended, he had obligations and he couldn't dismiss them. Arthur forced himself to pay attention to the Duel, grinding his teeth and gripping the arms of his seat in agony. Anyone noticing would think his reactions were because of the fight in front of him. 

          Again, the two alphas circled, but this time they were probing, trying to take a more inventoried examination. There was more rage in their eyes now, but for separate reasons. Leon understood what was at stake if he lost. Urien thought he understood what was to happen if _he_ lost. Neither were willing to give up their positions. 

          Then Urien began closing the space between them, swords clashing faster and with more accuracy. He edged his way in, swords held high, anger and determination flashing in his eyes, jaw set firm. He tried to feint under Leon's guard, and they spun and then locked again. They pressed against each other, straining and sweating. 

          Leon didn't notice it until it was too late. Urien's right foot swept under him, and soon Leon toppled down like a calcified oak. Urien followed him down, landing on top of him. Their swords clanged. Arthur nearly stood from his seat in shock, but he caught himself and instead gripped the seat's arms more fiercely, arse nearly on the edge of his seat. 

          "Now we finish this," Urien snarled in Leon's face. Their swords were crossed between them. Their arms strained. Leon pressed his head back against the ground as far as it'd go, trying to escape the edge of his own blade. Urien pressed down harder, putting his weight into it. "Your time has finally come, O great one. Admit defeat now, save yourself the humiliation. You know you've lost." 

          Leon continued to fight for his life, even though his arms ached and his hands were soaked with perspiration. He refused to die this way, and in front of his beloved Morgana. Unbidden, his gaze landed on the token Morgana had tied to his arm. 

          "You're dying for love?" Urien mocked, noticing where Leon's eyes went. "That's pitiful. It isn't worth dying for a mere slip of a girl. A real man fights for honor and glory!" 

          A change came over Leon's face. The odor around him changed. Every omega in the stands and near the arena scented the difference. It was so potent and rich in musk that the omegas felt their suppressants wane by a few degrees. The sudden thought of lying down and giving in pervaded their minds – even Merlin's – and the king had a fleeting, panicky thought that all the omegas would suddenly find themselves forced into being tied with someone they didn't want -- that they'd have a rape epidemic on their hands…. 

          "What do you know of honor?" Leon growled, and that voice did things to Merlin's loins. It was probably doing something to all the omegas' loins, even Morgana's. In fact, Merlin could see her hand pressed to her chest, cheeks flushed. 

          Before Urien could reply, Leon continued in a low and dangerous tone: "You know _nothing_ of honor! Dying for the one you love is _very_ honorable! And if you were a true knight of Camelot you'd know that glory is earned, not taken! It's not the only thing a knight of Camelot strives for." 

          "You're all talk," Urien roared in Leon's face, spit flying. "Your ways are idealistic and have no place for the future." 

          "And just what future are you talking about?" Leon said, carefully trying to detect a weakness in their struggle. 

          "Why, a future where all magical omegas are collared. There will be no more of this De-collaring business just because the omega's feeling a little stressed, or because their biological clock is ticking. The sooner we cull the herd, the better. And then it's good-bye magical omegas!" 

          Fury like none Leon had ever felt before welled up inside him. The True Alpha in the very core of his being surged through, and his strength increased _tenfold_. He easily reversed their positions, leg hooked around Urien's. Before Urien could even yell out his surprise, eyes wide with disbelief, Leon's sword slid past Urien's and the thicker, bottom part found Urien's throat. The shock of first pain made Urien lose his sword, grip slack. Leon's weight added to the downward thrust movement, and Urien's head became detached from his body. The ground was quickly stained red. The crowd gasped and groaned at the sight of Urien's head being severed, but then cheered, at last understanding that Leon had won. 

         Merlin had cringed at the brutal way it ended, and at the savage rage he'd seen in Leon's eyes. It'd been an Alpha Frenzy, he was sure of it (the regular kind of Frenzy, and not the more worrisome Blood Frenzy). That had been the first time he'd seen such a phenomenon. He wasn't sure whether to be scared or aroused. 

         He turned his head when he could no longer stand Urien's bloody head rolling around on the ground. He felt ill, and a little light-headed. He vaguely wondered if any of the other omegas felt the same. 

          "Well," Gaius said unemotionally, "I guess that's that. Merlin, I may need your help to—" 

          "Oh, no! Count me out," Merlin groaned. "I'm not going anywhere near that…" He shook his head, eyes shut. "I think I'll go lie down for a while." 

.-. 

          There was to be a great feast in celebration of Leon's victory. It was traditional after such an Alpha Duel that the winner be given a feast filled with everything that an alpha loved. But what was also traditional was a feast to celebrate the union of a royal person's engagement. Since Morgana was considered a royal person, and she was practically engaged to Leon now (or was at least being legitimately courted by him), there had to be a feast fit for a True Omega. 

          It was a marriage of feasts. There was plenty of good things for the Alphas to enjoy, and there were loads of delicious delicacies that Omegas adored. There were no betas or any in-betweens or half-bloods invited to their shindig. All the household workers and servants had to wait their turn. 

          Merlin couldn't help but smile at the sights and smells that invaded his senses. There were many of Merlin's favorite treats at the feast, and although he knew that it had been laid out because of Morgana, he felt as if it was his very own welcoming feast. 

          There were many fruits of all kinds that made his mouth water: bright red cherries, orange and green melons, rosy red pomegranates, reddish-pink raspberries, plump sweet strawberries, peeled kiwis, enormous lemons, and purplish blackberries. There were other treats as well, like: delicately sliced and salted almonds; freshly baked bread; scrambled and boiled eggs; cinnamon-sprinkled dough (cooked, of course) that looked like fat bracelets; chestnuts arrayed in a crystal bowl; golden honey in a pot for each Omega; sugary marzipans molded in every shape and size; creamy white milk in jugs; green and black olives; tarts of every colour and flavour; velvety smooth vanilla; enticing manna; aniseeds; sugarplums; treacle tart; the finest red wine; nutmeg; spicy mélange; quinine water; star anise; herbal green and black teas; pumpkins of all types; potpourri; stinging nettles; sour pokeweed; and malted chocolate balls. It all looked so good, Merlin didn't know where he'd start if he were to eat any. 

          But he wasn't allowed to touch anything, yet. The lords and ladies always had first pick. The Alphas went first, of course. They were served up their meats (many different types), eggs made in many ways, a variety of cheeses, breads of all sorts and makes, vegetables that were in season more than out, pickles of all shapes and kinds, many kinds of fish, and walnuts. They were given honeyed mead and watered wine as the main drinks, but some also had water or beer. The king gave his usual speech, thanking them all for joining in the celebrations. Then they toasted. Drank. Had a few more toasts. Drank some more. 

          Merlin stayed by the corner of the room where all the other servants and other non-royal persons stood. Gaius was with him, along with the handmaidens and stewards. They were to wait patiently for the nobles to finish. 

          Because of all the good things to see and smell, Merlin hadn't realized the change in the air, at first. There was that heady scent again. It was lightly being masked by the sensual scents of the food, but there was no mistaking it now: it was the same scent Merlin had caught when he had been in the woods. It came from one of the nobles. 

          He didn't know whether to be nervous or eager. He wanted to get closer to the table, to search out just whom smelled that way, but he couldn't just waltz up to the lords and start sniffing them. That was considered rude, no matter a person's rank. 

          After the Alphas had been served their meals, the Omegas were given theirs. They were given everything Merlin had noticed, plus other fruits and berries he hadn't seen before. One particular Omega princess kept asking for more mélange, indigo-blue eyes glazed over. Another kept having seconds of pomegranates and having her mug refilled with more quinine water, hiccupping. Yet another kept eating marzipans, sugarplums, and spiced pumpkin biscuits. Merlin had to wipe at his chin and take a deep breath. 

          When another Omega sprinkled mana onto her honey-flavoured yogurt, Merlin groaned aloud with want. Gaius put a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. 

          "Have patience, my boy," he said. 

          "I'm trying," Merlin said. He moaned in longing at the crystallized sugarplums. "Oh, all the gods above, Gaius—I need to eat!" His True Omega blood sang in obvious need. As far as he could tell, he was the only pure Omega in the room that wasn't royalty. 

          "You must be getting over your heat, then," Gaius said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be this hungry." 

          Gaius had a point. Merlin had had plenty of suppressants that morning in his tea, thinking he still needed to smother his heat lest he get molested by strange alphas. Now that he thought about it, he did have a bit more for breakfast than he'd normally would. And he hadn't drank as much water. 

          All the time Merlin ogled and drooled over the food, he didn't notice that he was being stared at. Or, more accurately, he and the other servants around him were being scrutinized. 

         Arthur neared his breaking point. He stared and stared at the group of servants and household members milling around the edge of the room and still couldn't pinpoint which one was his Soulmate. There were at least three there he didn't recognize, and it could be any one of them. Or he could just be going out of his mind with want and had imagined the scent. Either way, he could do nothing now. Not until they removed the Dampener from Morgana. (And it hadn't really hit him then that his supposed Soulmate wasn't of royal blood… his Alpha instincts were too high-strung, causing his brain to focus only on the animalistic urges within.) 

          Once the nobles finally had their fill, everything was taken away. All the leftovers were being marched down to the kitchens. It was surprising there were even leftovers to begin with, but then again, royalty didn't seem to eat as much as the average person, and there had been a lot of food at the feast. 

         Merlin and the other servants and household members followed the staff down to the kitchens. Merlin was only a little ashamed of himself for elbowing to the front. He wanted to receive as much of that heavenly food as possible. Gaius didn't follow him down. It was not only because he was just a Beta and didn't need to be there, but because of the business with Morgana getting her collar removed. Merlin didn't give him the chance of saying anything about it, because his hunger for the omega delicacies overshadowed every other logical thought in his head. 

          The leftovers were spread out onto a long table in the kitchen, and many chairs were added around it. Merlin quickly grabbed a spot at the front where he'd seen the manna, marzipans, pomegranates, cherries, and mélange had been set. The head cook said a few words of thanks to whatever deities they all believed in, and then they were allowed to eat. 

          As Merlin was about to reach for the marzipans, he accidentally brushed fingers with one of the maids that sat next to him. He'd been so preoccupied with getting food he hadn't even paid attention to those around him. 

          "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir," the girl said, blushing. 

          Merlin smiled. "It's all right. Did you want some, too?" He brought the bowl of marzipans closer so it sat in between them. 

          "Yes," she said as she took a marzipan in the shape of a peach. "Marzipans are my favourite." 

          "Mine too," Merlin said. He also took a marzipan, but this one was in the shape of a bear cub. "But I also like manna and pomegranates." 

          "Those are the best!" she agreed, beaming. She was actually rather pretty, for a girl. Her skin was a dark cream colour, eyes chocolate brown, and her hair was dark and curly. She was like a deep gold caramel wrapped in creamy chocolate. "Oh, I'm Gwen," she added politely. "Nice to meet you." 

          "Nice to meet you, too. I'm Merlin." 

          They shook hands. If the smell of all the delightful food hadn't wafted and stuffed up his nostrils, he'd have sensed a few interesting facts about her in that one handshake. 

         "Haven't seen you around before," she said. "Are you new here?" 

          "Just arrived," Merlin said. He helped himself to a few more marzipans before bringing the bowl back to the middle of the table. Then he made for the manna before it all disappeared. "I'm Gaius' nephew. I'll be staying with him while living here." 

          "I used to be a handmaiden here," Gwen admitted. "But now…" She paused, blushing brightly. 

          "Now?" he urged. He had to secretly admit that Gwen was rather cute, and sweet. If he were attracted to the fairer sex, and was an alpha, he would have loved to court her. 

          Gwen smiled wide. "You see, I've got a mate. We've our own house near the marketplace in lower town." She unconsciously put a hand on her belly. "And I'm three weeks along." 

          "Congratulations," Merlin said, smiling. Now that she had told him, his senses finally kicked in and said loudly: 'She is an omega, and she is with child!' It would have rung loud and clear if it hadn't been for all the aromatic treats he were inhaling… and eating. "You've got a good one, then? A mate, I mean." 

          "Lancelot is wonderful," Gwen sighed. "But he cannot make his dream come true while Uther is still king." 

          "What dream is that?" 

          "To be a knight of Camelot. He's always dreamed it since he was a boy. We've talked about going away, the two of us, but Camelot is my home. If he's to ever make his dream come true he has to stay here as well. So, we chose to stay living in Camelot, and Lancelot will therefore be close at hand if Prince Arthur ever needs him." 

          "So Lancelot's not any kind of knight at all?" 

          "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. For now, he does other things for pay. If there's a tournament, he enters it, whether it's one here in Camelot or some other kingdom nearby. So far, he's won them all. Well," Gwen shrugged, slightly abashed. "Except if Prince Arthur is fighting in it. Then Lancelot only gets second place." 

          "Does he still win money for it?" 

          "He does, actually," Gwen said, smiling proudly. "But it never used to be that way. When Arthur heard about our situation, especially right after we first mated, he convinced the king that the runner up should earn a few coins. For anyone to get as far as they had, it was a real accomplishment. Therefore, there should be a reward. So, thankfully, the king agreed, and the purse winnings for second place are about half of what the first place winner gets. If Arthur's the final contestant, they won't have to worry about paying that amount, because Arthur's never lost a tournament yet." 

          "Sounds to me like Prince Arthur's the only one that's capable of beating your Lancelot." 

          "That's true, and Lancelot really looks up to the prince, so he isn't upset about losing to him at all. He actually considers it an honor." 

          "I suppose being beaten by your longtime idol would be rather honorable," Merlin said, as he tried to talk and eat at the same time. "At least he won't be called out to have an Alpha Duel." 

          Gwen frowned deeply. "That would be horrible, but I doubt Prince Arthur would do such a thing. They're friends, you see." 

          "Your Lancelot has quite the friend," Merlin smirked. "A prince and the best knight in the land. Does he go easy on him, then?" 

          "You mean does Lancelot go easy on Arthur?" Gwen hummed thoughtfully to herself. "I really don't know. I never thought to ask." 

          "Maybe you should. You might find out that all this time Lancelot could have won first place here in Camelot, and you'd have a lot more money by now." 

          Gwen shook her head, but she was chuckling softly. "I highly doubt he'd throw the fight, even if it was Arthur he was fighting. He'd want to impress the prince, so of course he'd want to try beating him." 

          "Ah," Merlin said, smiling. "I see." 

          Gwen's eyes then lit up. "Oh, why don't you come to our place after we're done eating? I could introduce you to Lancelot. He'd be able to tell you more about his exploits than I could." 

          "I'm really not the type that's overly interested in hearing about duels, or any kind of fighting." Merlin blushed slightly, ducking his head. "I'm not really the fighting type. But I wouldn't mind meeting your mate." 

          Gwen beamed. "Great! Then let's finish up here so you can have some time to talk with him before we sleep." 

          So they ate as much as they could, without being too greedy with their portions. Then, after, Merlin followed Gwen out of the castle and down the lane that led through the marketplace. There weren't many people around as they walked, most of them already settled down for the night. A few late night shops had just closed up, and some people were hustling home from a long day of work. 

          They reached the lower town soon enough, before the sun completely set. Gwen's house was one of the first ones on the right hand side. Before they entered, Gwen's neighbour waved at her and bid her a good night. Gwen returned the sentiments with ease, as if they'd done this every day. 

          It was very cozy inside. Hunith's house was larger, but then again there was more room for a bigger house in Ealdor. Here, the houses practically pushed up against each other. There wasn't too much privacy, but no one seemed to overly mind. There were simple furnishings in Lancelot and Gwen's home. A table for eating on. A couple chairs. A bed that looked big enough to fit two adults and a small person. A vase filled with wildflowers near the window, which was partially open. A small fireplace with a nicely roaring fire in it. There was a throw rug in the middle of the one-roomed house, and on the opposite side Merlin figured was their eating place were trophies and objects littered the wall and the moderately sized shelf. All in all, a very homey place. 

          Lancelot stood beside the fire, looking to be in contemplation. He turned when he heard the door open. The moment he saw Gwen, he smiled warmly, eyes twinkling in the unmistakable look of adoration that even Merlin recognized. He could also tell right away that Lancelot was an alpha, but it wasn't certain yet if he was a True Alpha (Merlin guessed maybe only a Semi-True Alpha, otherwise why have such trouble getting a knighthood?). It wasn't just royalty that got that privilege; plenty of strong warrior-type alphas have clicked with, and mated with, omegas that were True or Semi-True. For some True Alpha warriors, nothing but a True Omega would do. It was one of the reasons why so many warriors have earned a knighthood and earldom. 

          But, apparently, not all kingdoms allowed just any alpha warrior a knighthood. 

          "My love, you're finally home. How was your day?" Lancelot greeted Gwen in the middle of the room and gave her a sweet, chaste kiss on the mouth. It was so sickingly sweet, Merlin had to smile. 

          "Thankfully things went very well," Gwen replied. She then gestured to Merlin. "Lancelot, I'd like you to meet Merlin. I met him during the omega feast in the kitchens." 

          Even without Gwen telling Lancelot that Merlin was an Omega, the unmistakable scent that rolled off him was a big give-away. Lancelot gave him a warm, friendly smile and shook his hand. 

          "It's nice to meet you, Merlin." 

          "Pleasure to meet you too, Lancelot. Gwen's told me about you." 

          "All good things, I hope?" 

          "Of course," Gwen said, face brightening. "When have I ever talked horribly about you?" 

          "There's a first time for everything," Lancelot joked. Gwen gave him a look that meant that she thought about smacking him, but she didn't. Lancelot still cringed as though she had. 

          Merlin could tell immediately that they were mates. It wasn't just the way they had looked at each other, or how close they stood beside each other, but mainly it was their scents. A mingle of flowery (wildflowers and lilac) and musky odor secreted from them. One he knew was Gwen's scent, the other was the distinctive alpha odor, which definitely came from Lancelot. The scents were interwoven and gave off a distinct aroma. Instead of the usual way it exclaimed: "I'm Gwen and I'm an omega!", the scent around them now screamed: "We're Gwen and Lancelot, and we're a bonded pair!" 

          The flowery aroma that Gwen produced was a tad different as well, and if Merlin had known Gwen before she had bonded with Lancelot, he'd be able to tell that it was because she was pregnant. The tiny, different scent that lingered on Gwen was that of her unborn child. Merlin had heard from the druids that the reason why the scent of a mother's unborn child was present was to let others know that she was pregnant (if she didn't show), and that she already had a mate. If any other alpha tried to take Gwen now, without her consent (which rarely happened outside of the heat), they'd know that she already carried another alpha's child, and that her alpha might maul them to death if he found their scent on her. (Lancelot was so kind, Merlin wondered how he'd look if enraged.) 

          When it came to another True, or Near-True, Alpha in his midst, Merlin could tell almost immediately that he wasn't his Soulmate. It wasn't just because Lancelot's scent mingled with Gwen's, but because Merlin's senses warned him. Lancelot might smell musky, and possibly alluring in that strong Alpha way, but he wasn't pleasing to Merlin's nostrils. Lancelot's odor was, more or less, acidulous. It was sharp, bitter, and did not please the palate. It was practically maleolent. The delicious musk that would have, once upon a time, made Merlin purr with need was now tinged with a sour aftertaste, and it wasn't the same kind of tartness that an omega liked when it came to food and drink. This kind of bitterness was more for the olfactory and inner senses than the taste buds. 

          Still, he couldn't deny that Gwen's mate was handsome. 

          "So," Lancelot said, and it shook Merlin out of his thoughts, "how long are you staying for?" He obviously tried to be courteous toward Merlin and offer him to stay for tea. 

          "Oh, I can't stay long," Merlin said reluctantly. "I have to get back to Gaius. He's my uncle, you see. My mother's elder brother. I'll be his, uh, assistant, you might say. And he'll be like a teacher to me while I'm here." 

          "Gaius is a good man," Lancelot said. "So if he's teaching you, does that mean you'll become Camelot's new physician in the near future?" 

          Merlin smiled. "Well, I don't know. We'll see. I'm mostly here because—" 

          "You're looking for your intended mate," Lancelot easily and quickly answered for him. 

          Merlin stared at him, blinking. "Er. How'd you know?" 

          "Your scent," Lancelot answered in the same tone. "You're definitely an omega, and I don't smell any other scent on you. Therefore, you have no mate, which means you're here looking for one." 

          "It could have just been a coincidence, love," Gwen said. "Maybe Merlin is the type of omega that doesn't want to mate with a male alpha. He's probably not attracted to men." 

          Merlin blinked again. "Uh, well, actually—" 

          "Oh!" Gwen said, and her face darkened with blood. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I didn't mean to say anything if I thought… I mean…" 

          "It's okay," Merlin said. "People would have found out sooner or later anyway." 

          "So, do you know who your mate is?" Lancelot asked kindly. He tried to ease Merlin's discomfort, and for that Merlin was grateful. "Any ideas?" 

          "Not a one," Merlin said. "But I've smelled him when I was at the royal feast. He's most likely a nobleman." 

          Lancelot and Gwen exchanged a shocked look before returning their stunned gazes at Merlin. 

          "Is it possible?" Lancelot murmured, as if more to himself. He stared at Merlin for a moment longer, and it did nothing to ease Merlin's worry. Lancelot looked like he had something important to say, but then decided against it. Finally, he said, "Merlin, are you – you're a _True_ Omega, aren't you?" 

          Merlin bit his bottom lip. "Er, yeah?" He said it as if he weren't sure if it was true or not, so he rectified with, "I mean yes. Er, that's what I'm told anyway." 

          "Oh, my," Gwen whispered. 

          "What?" Merlin demanded. "What's wrong?" 

          Lancelot answered for her. "Well, it's just… the majority of True Alphas are royalty or renown warriors, and normally they only mate with True Omegas. If you've scented your mate among them—the royal persons, then it's only logical to figure that you're a True Omega." Lancelot turned slightly pink. "Which I should have realized when I first noticed your scent, but it's harder for me sometimes ever since I bonded with Gwen. Other omegas don't smell as good to me now." 

          Merlin smiled. "I have to admit, you two make a lovely couple." He was too embarrassed to go more into the issue of royal alphas, so changing the subject seemed like a perfectly logical way to go about it. He was also not sure if he should ask Lancelot what he'd been about to say. He felt that Lancelot would just skirt the issue and not really tell him anything concrete. 

          Gwen blushed, ducking her head. "Merlin, you're too sweet." 

          "No, I mean it. You're both so thoughtful and charming, it's no wonder you two bonded. I wouldn't be surprised if your child grew to be just as wonderful." 

          "You're too kind, Merlin," Lancelot said, pink lightly dusting his own cheeks. "I would be honored to call you my friend, if you were all right with that." 

          "You may," Merlin said. He beamed at the prospect of having found two friends already, and he hadn't been here more than two days now. He thought he looked at lonely days filled with chores and irritating heats until he found his intended mate. He knew now that if he ever needed anything, Lancelot and Gwen would be there for him. 

          "Well, if you can't stay now, maybe you could come another day," Gwen said. "Perhaps tomorrow? We could have tea and cake, or whatever you'd like. We'd all get to know one another better." 

          "Yeah, perhaps I will," Merlin said. "We'll see what's in store for me. I might wind up rather busy, but I'll see what I can do. I would love to spend some time with you both." 

          "Splendid," Lancelot said. "We shall hopefully see you on the morrow then. For tea and biscuits, I mean. Or you could stop by any time, even if I'm not here. I'm sure Gwen wouldn't mind your company." 

          "I wouldn't mind in the slightest," Gwen said. 

          "All right, it's a deal. Until then," Merlin said. He gave Gwen a hug, squeezing her carefully. Then received a firm handshake from Lancelot. 

          He left their happy home with a bit more spring in his step. He couldn't wait to tell Gaius about it all. He could maybe hint he'd been invited to tea and would then get the evening off. Surely Gaius wouldn't mind; he wouldn't be so grumpy as to not allow Merlin any friends. 

 


	5. Drizzling Hues

 

.-.

**Drizzling Hues**

.-.

          Once the feast had ended, and all the leftovers were taken down into the kitchen (with Merlin following them down), the next item on the royal agenda was underway. Morgana finally got to have her Dampener removed. Gaius had prepared for the event ahead of time, bringing the collar remover from the infirmary.

          As before, Morgana stood in front of the king, head held high to show that she was ready. Arthur had to stay, no matter how badly he wanted to follow that tempting aroma down to the kitchens. He also forced himself to pay attention to the business at hand, but it wasn't easy. To make sure he kept himself from wandering off, he trained his eyes to stay on Morgana or Leon. Gaius stood to Uther's left while Arthur stayed on Uther's right. Leon stuck close to Morgana, looking very soldierly in his stance, but his eyes took on a whole different meaning. Arthur tried to send him calming vibes, but he didn't think it worked. That sort of thing couldn't be done between two alphas. At least, Arthur's never heard of it happening between two alphas.

          No one else was allowed to be present this time, unless given special permission by the king, and the only knight that had the king's permission was Leon. Everyone else had been ordered to leave.

          "Are you ready, Morgana?" Uther asked.

          "I am," she answered in a very stately manner, chin held high.

          Uther nodded, pleased by her royal demeanor and strong voice. "Then, it's time. Gaius?"

          "Yes, Sire," Gaius said. He stepped forward, holding a metal device in his hands. The end of it looked almost like a brand, except it was smaller and had the same shape as the symbol on Morgana's collar: the symbol for omega. An omegoid.

          "You may proceed to remove Lady Morgana's Dampener."

          "Of course, Sire," Gaius said, bowing low. He then bowed to Arthur and courteously to Morgana. "My lady."

          Morgana nodded politely, almost curtly. She was anxious about what was to come, and she could barely keep her impatience from showing. But raised as she was, her noble upbringing aided her in both mannerisms and poise. She held her chin up, but kept her eyes pinned downward as she watched Gaius step in front of her. She had to clench her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. As Gaius brought the device to her throat, she raised her eyes and stared at Uther. She couldn't tell what he thought, but then again it was hard to tell with the King. During most of her life, his mouth always seemed turned down, so she wasn't sure if he was unhappy with the situation or worried. Or maybe a little of both, with some trepidation thrown in.

          Then, her gaze cut to Arthur. If anything, he looked more anxious and ill-at-ease than Uther. Morgana couldn't pinpoint exactly why. She was sure that her step-brother was pleased that she was about to get her freedom, and that she was about to become the mate to his first knight. Leon would then become Arthur's brother-in-law. So why did Arthur look as if he were about to come apart?

          There was a loud chink noise below her chin, startling her from her thoughts. Not only did that sound signal her freedom from oppression, but it also shook her to the core. Her price for knowledge and freedom was about to be tested. Would getting tied with Leon be worth it, or would it become a fruitless endeavour? But she had to know her dreams, and in full. She couldn't rely on Seeing only bits and pieces of the vision – piecemeal visions. She had to experience the _whole_ nightmare. She was sure it was the only way to get answers.

          What would also please her would be to discover that she was acarpous—infertile. The last thing she wanted was to become nothing but a broodmare, barefooted and kept locked away. She shivered violently. Would she be trading one type of prison for another?

          If Leon ever thought her Adamant before, he best hold on tight. She could be a real Hellcat if he wasn't careful.

          Gaius meticulously pulled the collar away from Morgana's neck. The leathery fabric was unhooked from the omegoid, which was still attached to the device.

          The moment the entire collar stopped touching her skin, her body went into shock. Her gasp was loud in the spacious throne room and she crumbled to the floor as if marionette strings had just been cut. Leon went to her immediately, wrapping an arm around her middle and under one arm. He lifted her gently away from the cold floor and let her lean on him. Her knees shook beneath her as she was steadied.

          "Morgana, are you all right?" Leon said.

          She leaned her head onto his shoulder, trying to catch her breath. For most of her life, she'd been an empty gorge. Now that the collar was removed, she was being filled back up, but not with gentle rainwater. It was as if a dam had broken and a surging flood crashed into her. What used to be a giant chasm of nothingness now overflowed with wild magic. She tried to slow her breathing, forcing herself to stay calm. She closed her eyes to block off all distractions, concentrating on steadying the magic within. She had to clench her fists to stop herself from releasing some of that chaotic magic. It wanted out, it wanted to play, to be free….

          "Please, love, answer me," Leon said, sounding much more desperate than before.

          "She's in shock, I believe," Gaius said. He was suddenly there on her other side, helping Leon get her up onto her feet. "You must bring her to her chambers, Sir Leon. Stay with her. As her Intended, you must be the one to look after her."

          "You're also charged with making sure she does nothing heinous with her magic," Uther said sternly. "If Camelot suffers from it, your life may be forfeit. Keep that in mind, Sir Leon."

          "Yes, Sire," Leon said.

          Gaius released his hold on Morgana to allow Leon to take over fully. She was still limp against his side, but Leon found that he had the strength to carry ten Morganas. His alpha instincts had kicked in, and although Morgana wasn't legally considered his mate yet, his body and soul leaned in that direction. It felt, to Leon, that the moment he'd won his Alpha Duel with Urien he was forever after Morgana's Intended.

          Morgana's scent had changed drastically as well. He could immediately sense the difference once her Dampening Collar had been removed. Not only did she gain full access to her magic again, but her smell—her aura—was also in full force. The urge to covert, to protect, and to possess had grown a hundred-fold. He had to do it right, though. He had to court her. By all rights, he was practically Morgana's betrothed, but he still had to be careful and do right by her. He could not lose control and act like a barbarian, or some wild _Beast_. Morgana was to be treated like a queen; he'd make sure of it.

          Once inside her chambers, Leon gently laid Morgana onto her bed. Her face had taken on a rosier glow and her breath was erratic. He wasn't sure if he had to cover her or if she was too warm for that. Her shaking could be from something other than the cold. Gingerly, he swept a stray hair away from her face.

          "Are you chill, beloved?" he asked. "Do you wish to be covered?"

          "I'm—" Morgana panted. Her closed eyes fluttered a while before she opened them slightly. "I'm hot, actually. Could you—" She waved a weak hand toward the window.

          "Of course, beloved," Leon said at once. He stood before even finishing his sentence and in a few, short strides was at the window. He cracked it open about halfway. "Is this enough, or should I have it open all the way?"

          "We'll see if it is enough," Morgana enunciated. She closed her eyes again and breathed in deeply. She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. Her magic continued to pulse through her, trying to settle into a more comfortable nestle.

          Leon felt helpless. He would do anything for her, but he didn't know what he could do to relieve her pain. He sat on the edge of her bed slowly, not sure just how close he should be, or how close Morgana would allow him. If he had his way, he'd take her into his arms and hold her as tightly as he dared until she stopped shaking.

          "Are you thirsty?" He desperately wanted to do something—anything—for her to alleviate whatever discomfort she was feeling. "Are you in any pain?"

          She shook her head, lips pursed. She said nothing for a moment, then squeaked out, "I'm fine… just," she drew in another deep breath. "I'm adjusting…"

          Gently, Leon took her hand, as if not sure if he were allowed. She didn't pull away, and he let out a relieved sigh. "I'm here for you, my love. Whatever you want."

          The corner of her lips lifted slightly and she looked at him through lidded eyes. "You're such a genteel alpha. I'm curious now about what you're going to be like during _the heat_. Will you become an untamed and wild thing, losing all inhibitions, or will you continue to be guarded and refined? I must admit I'd like to see you crazed with lust. It would be such a lovely change."

          Leon's cheeks warmed considerably. He lowered his gaze as he tried to get his mouth to work. "I would only show such unrefined passion with you, love."

          Morgana's eyes glittered a burnt gold, but stayed half-open. The corner of her lip quirked a little higher. "I'm glad to hear it." She closed her eyes and gasped when she felt a sudden quiver course through her. Her body arched, head nearly disappearing amongst the feathery pillows. "…Oh!"

          "Beloved!" Leon brought her hand to his chest. "Are you all right? What can I do to help? Please tell me. It hurts me to see you in such agony."

          "There's nothing you can do," she panted out. "I must… let it run its course. My magic… it keeps filling me up… like a bottomless pit. But there should be a bottom, an end… I—I am sure of it. It should stop soon. It must, or I shall go _mad_."

          Morgana was right. There was nothing Leon or anyone could do. She had to ride out the storm, and all Leon could do was be there for her. He continued to hold her hand and watch helplessly as his Intended arched and trembled and panted. The moment it was over, Morgana knew, she would fall into a deep sleep and then… the dreams would start.

.-.

          Gaius had been crushing some herbs with a pestle and mortar when Merlin walked in. The acrid aroma that wafted from the herbs filled Merlin's nostrils with an unexpected calming effect. He felt as if he floated as he made his way toward the workbench. He lifted his chin slightly and inhaled the blessed, sweet-sour fragrance. His eyes closed involuntarily as he rode high on the hypnotic waves of such pungent smells.

          "Gaius," he whispered in a dreamlike state. "What is that?"

          "It's a Calming Draught," Gaius said. "I have a feeling that Morgana is going to need it. With her Dampening Collar now removed, her magic will be unpredictable and might get a little wild. This elixir will hopefully relax her enough so that she can get used to being without fetters, just until her magic settles down by itself."

          Such elixirs for many True Omegas calmed them, and the more acidic and venomous the scent the more pleasing it was to those Omegas. Merlin found himself swaying partway toward the marble-carved mortar. When Merlin was practically in Gaius's way—his head nearly leaning down into the bowl—Gaius had to gently shove Merlin out of the way.

          "Maybe you should make yourself scarce for a while until I'm done," Gaius suggested. "Otherwise you might be tempted to drink Morgana's draught before I can even get it delivered to her."

          Merlin stood back, abashed. "Sorry, Gaius. You know how that kind of scent can, at times, drive a True Omega mad with want."

          Gaius had known plenty of True Omegas, and most of them were nobles. The fact that True Omegas had something akin to venom pumping through their veins alongside the usual blood wasn't new to the old Healer. Things that normal people, non-purebloods, would find horribly bitter or just plain disgusting (not to mention deadly), attracted the full-blooded and near-true Omegas.

         There was even a test that some royals performed on Omegas to check whether they were pure or not. It was not a common practice in all kingdoms, because there was still a possibility that the corrosive liquid would kill the Omega (or make the Omega violently ill), and it was considered in bad taste. The omega could still be pure enough to mate with a True Alpha, but the caustic potion—Absinthe, it was called—could still kill the omega. It wasn't known for sure yet just what made certain Omegas immune and some not. The only known explanation (universally accepted, but not by all scientists and Healers) was because True Omegas, or Near-True Omegas, had poisonous blood. That kind of blood was long ago dubbed _Ichor_. Probably by the ancient Egyptians or Greeks. It was considered much more potent and dangerous to handle when the Omega was in heat. Only the Omega's mate became immune after being mated to them, because their scents and bodily fluids would mingle together, during and after the tie. How they were able to mingle safely wasn't known just yet, but Gaius guessed it had to do with genetics or something within the Alpha's own blood. (Hence, perhaps, why some _clicked_ and some did not?)

          Undoubtedly, Merlin was the type of Omega that could handle drinking Absinthe, but there was still the slight possibility that if given to Merlin at the wrong time (like when he wasn't in heat, or just getting over an intense heat), Merlin could still suffer from the toxic effects; if not die outright, then become horribly ill… and then die when there wasn't a strong enough remedy administered. The last thing Gaius wanted to do was write to Hunith explaining how he hadn't protected her only son from something so easily preventable.

          Gaius pounded the pestle a few more times before tapping it lightly on the edge of the mortar to remove the excess stuff. He put the pestle aside and poured the mixture into a bell-mouthed beaker. Merlin loomed up from behind him, head leaning over Gaius's shoulder, nostrils quivering wildly. Gaius pushed Merlin's face out of the way.

          "By all that's pure and chaste, Merlin, will you please go do something with yourself? You're not helping."

          Merlin took a few steps back, head bowed and cheeks red. "Again, I'm sorry. I—I guess I better go. But I was hoping to ask you a few questions about mates and heats and stuff."

          "Let's do that in the morning," Gaius said. "I must finish this and have it delivered immediately—preferably by someone who isn't an omega," he added when he noticed Merlin was about to offer up his own assistance.

          "All right, but where should I go? I just got back from seeing Gwen."

          "I don't know," Gaius sighed. "Maybe go to the kitchens or take a walk around the castle, get to know the place better."

          Merlin agreed, but only because Gaius had to shove his face away from the bubbling beaker again.

.-.

          Merlin had been approaching the kitchens when he sensed it. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned as if he were about to do an about-face, but didn't turn any further. He tilted his head slightly and inhaled.

          Moonlight streamed from a nearby window creating a long, rectangular shape on the floor. Merlin's eyes focused on the floating motes as he tried not panic. It was the scent of the one he'd smelled before, from the forest. The strong, heady musk of a True Alpha.

          Was it _he_? Was the scent he tasted on the air his Soulmate? Maybe that was why it was so different from all the other alphas he'd smelled before. It could just be that the alpha he'd been scenting was pure, therefore his senses sang out to it. He couldn't be sure. The Druid Elder told him that he'd know for sure when he touched his Intended's skin. But what about seeing him for the first time? Sometimes an omega and alpha knew—recognized—each other just by looking into each other's eyes. Their "souls" would then _click_.

          Knowing his luck, he probably had to do all three.

          But now there was the dilemma of whether or not he should follow that scent. It wasn't up to the omega to hunt for the alpha. The alpha had the job of seeking and claiming, not the other way. Then, because the scent of the alpha got stronger, did that mean that the alpha now stalked him?

          Merlin's heart thrummed hard in his ribcage. He knew he should stay put and let the Alpha find him, but what if the Alpha wasn't his? Merlin would be giving him a sense of false hope if he found him. Merlin's feet slowly turned back around and he continued on his way toward the kitchens. Then he stopped and turned around again, as if he felt a warm breath on this neck, but there was no one there. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat. He turned toward the kitchens again.

          He walked faster, a little apprehensive but also giddy. He wasn't sure if he was giddy in the good sense or bad. The scent behind him became suffocating, and surprisingly it sent a shock wave of panic flooding his veins. He quickened his pace almost instinctively. Soon he ran. The steps leading down to the kitchens were nearly in sight.

          He almost tripped down the stairs on his way down. He placed a steady hand onto the wall, slowing his steps somewhat—but not completely. _Run and hide!_ his mind shouted. It was odd, really. His senses last time told him to locate that enticing aroma. Now, for some inexplicable reason, it told him to run. If Merlin had to guess, when his senses told him to locate the scent it was merely just curiosity. As enticing as the aroma was, it was also frightening.

          He shouldn't blame his innate senses on wanting to run. He wasn't alarmed or had a sense of preservation. It was a deeper, primal urge that commanded him to run—almost instinctual. An Alpha seeked, stalked, hunted… and Merlin had to run, find cover, evade the pursuer. It was like a game—a very ancient game that went way back to ancient times. The hunter and the prey. The Alpha and the Omega in their most natural setting (even if that setting was in their minds, more or less). Merlin's heart hammered as he rounded a corner and frantically searched for a hiding place.

          Right as he found a space between the wall and a cupboard, his feet halted. He stood and waited, senses on high alert. The potent scent didn't move any further from the stairs. Merlin edged his way toward his hiding spot anyway, just in case the smell grew stronger.

          Nothing happened for a long, agonized moment. Then, he sensed it: there was another scent. Someone else was with the Alpha—another True Alpha? Merlin backed up and leaned against the wall beside the cupboard and waited. Either the Alpha's odor would increase or it would fade. He had to wait and see which happened.

          The scent stayed put for a while, as if the Alpha was having a conversation with whomever it was that stopped him. Merlin wondered if the Alpha was frustrated with the interruption or not. Merlin wasn't sure which it was for him. Part of him was relieved, but the other more instinctive part of him—

          Presently, the smell started to fade. It got dimmer and dimmer. Then, the Alpha was gone. Merlin slid down the wall onto his butt and hugged his knees to his chest. He was at war with what to do. Should he stay put and wait until it was safe for him to leave, or should he just get up and leave immediately, in hopes for another game of tag (or was it hide-and-seek)?

          Indecision warred with him for another couple minutes; then he found the courage to stand and make his way toward the stairs. A couple maidservants stared at him oddly, but he paid them no heed. Before he left, however, he was able to take a few marzipans and cherries with to snack on as he made his way back to Gaius.

          Back in the hall, Merlin could smell just where the Alpha had stood. Merlin squatted and bent his head down slightly to sniff the area. It was definitely the exact same odor he'd smelled from the woods when he'd been making his way to Camelot. The scent was heady, musky and alluring. There was a very good chance it was his Intended.

          Merlin wasn't sure if he was glad to have evaded the man, or if he was annoyed by the interruption. Part of him wanted to punish the person who dared come between him and his mate's hunting game. The other part of him wanted to thank them.

          He leaped from his spot as if he knew just what to do, and quickly made his way back to Gaius's. He knew he wouldn't get much sleep tonight, and what little sleep he was about to have would most likely have a certain Alpha starring in his dreams.

.-.

          Arthur was about to head toward his bedchambers when that very tantalizing aroma reached his nostrils.

          He knew of whom that scent belonged to. It was his Soulmate.

          It was so pungent it seemed to smack Arthur right between the eyes. He lifted his head and his nostrils quivered in excitement. He curled his lips upward as he took it in through his mouth as well as his nose. His mouth gaped open and he sucked in the air.

          He could live off that smell alone, it was so erotic. For a moment, he couldn't move. Then, when he sensed the aroma started fading, he realized that his Soulmate was on the move. Instinct forced his feet to follow.

          He wondered idly if he should run. He kept his steps an even cadence, part of him reveling in the unhurried pace of his hunt. That was what this was, Arthur suddenly realized, mouth quirking into a half-smile. He was on a Hunt. He could almost say he was in a _Hungry_ mood, and how ironic was that, because the direction they headed in was the kitchens.

          His Hunger was nothing compared to his urging sense of rutting. His pure Alpha blood screamed at him to pick up the pace, lest he lose his quarry. But he didn't run. It was closer to a slight jog. When he began to hurry, he noticed that his prey tried to put some distance between them. Arthur almost increased his speed, but he found he enjoyed the chase. It was like a game they played – he was the wolf and his Soulmate was the deer. He would corner them; they'd have no where to run, and he would pin them against the wall, or whatever solid surface was available. If they ended up in the kitchens, Arthur could find a nice, private niche or corner and trap his Soulmate there. He'd then press his entire body against theirs, bury his face into their neck, and sate his Hunger. He'd take in his mate's aroma, inhale as much as possible, and then maybe lick and suck and bite.…

          Arthur got hard just thinking about it, and he found he didn't care if anyone noticed (royal Alphas were proud of their cock sizes). He nearly picked up speed, but forced his footsteps back into an even rhythm. He wanted their chase to last. It was wholly invigorating. His pulse raced harder the longer he Hunted. He thought his heart was about to burst the second he realized he was almost to the kitchens.

 _Nearly there… Nearly there,_ he thought excitedly. _Soon I'll have you, my lovely Omega. First, I'll chase you round the room… then I'll trap you—press you into the closest solid object. I will then claim you, conquer you, and mark you as mine! Then no other alpha would dare touch you, lest they incite my ire._

          He sensed his Soulmate hesitate, scent lingering in one place instead of moving, and when Arthur sped up his Soulmate was suddenly on the move again. The aroma descended. His Soulmate headed down into the kitchens. _Soon_ , _I will have you… and if any other alpha dares to try claiming you—_

          "Arthur," someone called. Arthur turned, eyes blazing with fury and hand clenching in the urge to make a fist so he could shove it into the other alpha's face.

          "Go away, Gwaine," Arthur snarled. His top lip lifted slightly up to show the pointier teeth, threatening.

          Gwaine immediately noticed his prince's stance and sensed the overpowering musky cologne radianting off him. He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. Being a True Alpha himself, Gwaine recognized the warning signs Arthur gave off with looks and potent odors. Now wouldn't be the right time for any cheeky banter or casual words.

          "My apologies, Sire," Gwaine said cautiously. "I don't mean to intrude—"

          "Well that's exactly what you're doing," Arthur growled. He took a half-step closer to the other Alpha, and Gwaine stepped back, hands still raised. "Do you make it a habit of interrupting other Alphas when they're on a Hunt?"

          Gwaine's eyebrows rose and he blinked rapidly in shock. "Er… you're Hunting? Really?" Of course, Gwaine should have known by the strength of the odors wafting from his prince.

          "Yes, really," Arthur said. "I sensed my mate go in this direction, and I was Hunting them. They're down there somewhere," Arthur gestured down the kitchen stairs, "and I mean to find them and mark them. So, Sir Knight, if you'll excuse me—"

          "Er, I beg your pardon, Sire," Gwaine said, tone careful. "But, well…"

          Arthur turned hard, blazing eyes on Gwaine. "But what, Sir Gwaine? If I don't mark my Soulmate soon, another alpha might try and—"

          "And you'll have to issue an Alpha Duel," Gwaine said. He gave Arthur as friendly a smile as he could. "Yeah, I understand, Sire, but this can't be helped. Your father's asking for your presence."

          Arthur threw his head back and roared in frustration. It wasn't a very princely gesture, but he couldn't care less. He was too irritated to really care about protocol or any sort of royal demeanor. He was so close to discovering his Soulmate, to locking gazes with them and marking them with scent and saliva, Biting and _Blooding_ them….

          He felt close to the edge of manic lunacy, and he nearly struck out at Gwaine. He wanted to punish the other Alpha in some way, but he knew he couldn't fault Gwaine for obeying orders. Part of him wanted to disobey those orders and go down into the kitchens anyway, to at least get a glimpse of his Soulmate's face, but he knew he needed to obey the summons.

         Arthur dithered for a long, agonizing minute, but his princely upbringing won out. He turned his back on the entrance to the kitchens reluctantly, and with remorse. His instincts screamed at him, told him to turn around, to continue with his Hunt. He ignored it, earning himself a whole body shiver for his troubles. He thought his insides had just turned to ice. He could barely feel his limbs.

          "All right," he finally said. His voice was cold, full of pent up anger. "This better be worth my while."

.-.

          Morgana was in the throes of agony when Gaius arrived. Leon had let him in with a troubled face.

          "I'm glad you came, Gaius," Leon said. "She seems to have gotten worse. I don't know what to do."

          Gaius hurried to the bed, saw Morgana tossing and turning, obviously stuck in some sort of nightmare. The room was heavy with not just Omega odors but with potent magic. Gaius concluded that she must be having a prophetic dream, and whatever it was she was Seeing wasn't good.

          "It's best you don't wake her," Gaius said. "There's no telling what she'd do if you touched her."

          "But I'm her Intended—"

          "Yes, Sir Leon, but not officially. You're only courting her. Once she goes into her heat, then you'll know for sure if you'll _click_. Until then, you're just a suitor." Gaius stood with Leon next to the bed, both of them frowning as they watched Morgana moaning and writhing. The sheets around her had gotten ripped and some sheets were off the bed entirely. Her forehead beaded with sweat.

          "How do we give her the Calming Draught?" Leon asked.

          "I had no idea she was this bad," Gaius said. "Otherwise I would have made it into an ointment instead. Either we wait until she comes out of her dream-state, or you chance holding her down while I force the potion down her throat."

          Leon hestitated for a full minute before deciding. "Right. Okay. I'll try holding her down."

          "Brave lad," Gaius said. He took out the potion bottle and uncorked it. "Now, hold her steady…"

          Leon gingerly sat on one side of the bed and quickly, bravely, gripped Morgana's wrists. Morgana arched off the bed and screamed. Leon tried to reassure her that it was him, but nothing got through. Gaius took the chance. He lifted her head up from the pillow so that she wouldn't choke, and poured the potion down her throat. Morgana nearly coughed it back up, but her instinctual muscles in her throat flexed and she swallowed it.

          She continued to thrash about on the bed, Leon still holding tight to her wrists. She stopped screaming, let out a small whimper, and then shook wildly before calming down some. Morgana twitched softly, eyelids fluttering as if still fighting her nightmare. Finally, after nearly three minutes of light convulsions, her body stilled. Her chest rose and fell evenly. She looked a lot more peaceful.

          Leon released her as he let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Gaius. I hope she's isn't still stuck in that nightmare, though."

          "Hopefully not," Gaius said. "I'm sure that she'd fallen into a dreamless sleep. We won't know anything fully about her experiences until she wakes by herself. It's best if she gets as much rest as possible. She'd have a less stressful time with her magic if she were sleeping."

          Leon understood what Gaius said, but it didn't make him feel completely assured. He recalled the nights when Morgana had woken suddenly in the middle of the night, panting and sweating profusely, looking scared and lost. It was a look he never wanted to see on her face again. Because of the Dampener, she hadn't been able to See the entire vision. She never explained much to him during the day, though, no matter how often he had begged her. Now, however, it seemed as if she received the whole ominous dream. Whatever it was, he hoped that she would trust him enough to confide all of it to him.

          "I think I should stay here," he decided suddenly. "Just in case… well, you know."

          Gaius nodded. "Yes, of course. You do understand that you can't sleep in her bed, though. If you were caught doing so before you two were bonded—"

          "I know," Leon said. He understood the consequences if he were caught sleeping in the same bed as Morgana. King Uther would do more than take his knighthood away. Other than prison being an option, the king had the power to strip Alphas of their manhood, to make them (or Omegas) into Geldings. It was the most horrific thing to be, and considered the lowest of the low. Leon shivered at the mere thought.

          "Best if you had a cot put in the antechamber," Gaius said. "You wouldn't want to accidentally fall asleep in her bed."

          "But there wouldn't be any danger," Leon said. "Morgana won't go into her heat just yet."

          "It's best you don't chance it anyway, Sir Leon. You never know; she might go into her full heat when she wakes, and her smell would definitely wake you… and most likely rouse your alpha needs. Best if you were at least a few feet away at the time of it happening, so you have a chance to leave the room beforehand."

          Leon nodded, lips pursed. He completely understood, but he didn't like the thought of being even a foot away from her while she was in this condition. Still, he reluctantly agreed. And after he made sure that Morgana rested peacefully, and was comfortable, Leon went out to find a servant. Once he'd done that, and told the servant what he needed, he immediately returned to Morgana's side. She was still asleep, chest rising and falling silently.

          He continued to sit by her bedside and watch her sleep even after the servants had brought in his cot. His primal, Alpha instincts were very difficult to fight. So he didn't.

.-.

          The doors to the throne room banged open when Arthur entered. He knew he shouldn't be showing his anger like this out in the open, but Uther had just interrupted a pureblooded Alpha from Hunting his Soulmate. Uther was lucky Arthur didn't run him through for his interference.

         But now was a good time as any to let his father know that he was on the verge of claiming his Intended. He hoped to enlighten Uther about what he'd learned—smelled—so that Uther would stop inviting princesses to Camelot.

          Unfortunately, his hopeful bubble was popped. The moment Arthur reached him, Uther turned toward Arthur and said, "Good, you're here. I wanted to tell you that I've sent a messenger out with an invitation—"

          Arthur groaned into his hands. His father couldn't have waited until morning to tell him this?

          "—and you _will_ give her a chance," Uther demanded. "I will not count all my chickens before they're hatched. If there's even remotely a chance that you'll click with a princess or any lady related to nobility, then I am taking that chance."

          As calmly as he could, Arthur said: "Father, I understand that you want what is best for me and for Camelot, but I'd already scented my mate—"

          "Is this so-called mate you've scented royalty?"

          Arthur sucked in a breath in order to tell his father that he didn't care, but then Uther interrupted again.

          "Because if this person isn't, I think you should scope out other potential mates first before—"

          "Father," Arthur quickly intervened, "I told you, my Intended is my _Soulmate_ , and as Gaius had already explained—"

          "Not another word about this whole Soulmate nonsense," Uther barked. "You will make an advantageous marriage and you'll bring honor and stability to Camelot."

          "I cannot bring any kind of stability if I'm not bonded with my Soulmate," Arthur argued. "And what kind of honor is it, if I ignore my Intended?"

          "My mind is made up on this, Arthur," Uther snarled. "The invite has been sent. It's too late to back out of the acquaintance now. If we recall the invitation it'd be rude, and it would make us look indecisive and weak. I will not have you ruin things before they've even begun! Now, not another word about your alleged mate. We must prepare ourselves for Princess Mithian's visit. I already have most of the kitchen staff and chambermaids preparing. You should have your servant get your best attire ready. She should be arriving sometime tomorrow. We'll have another feast prepared for her…"

          Arthur tried to sigh as quietly as possible so that his father wouldn't see his frustration and comment on how childish his behavior was. He wanted to scream and tell his father that he could stuff his good intentions, but Arthur's upbringing wouldn't allow it. He'd have to suffer through another bad match, and hopefully now that he knew about his Soulmate being in Camelot, he wouldn't have to even try tying with Princess Mithian.

          He also hoped that she understood about it if he explained everything to her. He hadn't met Mithian, but he'd heard good things about her. He hoped what he'd heard was true.

          There was no choice but to obey his father, this time. Once Uther finished explaining his plans, Arthur bowed to show just enough deference and walked out as calmly as he could without another word. All he could do now was go through the motions, and no matter what happened during Mithian's visit, he was going to let her down as gently as possible. He was sure she wouldn't get too upset if he explained to her that he had a mate already, and that he was determined to have his mate no matter what his father had planned for him.

          He thought about going back to the kitchens. Maybe if he hurried he could make it in time to see his Soulmate ascending the stairs….

          His feet moved of their own accord, and before he knew it, he stood in front of the stairs that led down into the kitchens. His Soulmate's unique scent lingered there, but it wasn't as strong as before. He was too late; his Soulmate had run for a safe place. Part of him—a deeper, more primeval part—wanted to continue seeking, to try following his mate's scent no matter how much it had faded since he'd been gone. He could probably do it if he had the time, but there was no telling how long it would take. It was already late, and if he didn't get enough sleep there was no way he'd get up in time for training. He knew his duty, and no matter how much he hated it, he had to wait until tomorrow.

.-.

          When Merlin reached Gaius's, there was no sign of the old Healer. Just as Merlin sat at the table, staring at the beakers filled with different coloured potions and elixirs, he remembered that Gaius had been making a Sleeping Draught for Morgana, so that was probably where he was right now.

          It was late anyway, and he needed sleep. But he was almost afraid of falling asleep now, especially after the close call he'd just had. He knew just whom he'd be dreaming of the moment his head hit the pillow.

          He wasn't sure what he'd do if—when—he came face-to-face with his Intended. Thoughts of what would happen ran through his mind. He imagined himself being chased round the kitchen, circling the table, as he tried to get away—but not necessarily because he didn't want to be caught in the end. He'd want to prolong the chase. Then maybe he might accidentally find himself cornered in one of the smaller store rooms where there was no other exit. He'd get corralled and he'd have nowhere else to run.

          Merlin gulped uneasily, his mind's eye playing out the fantasy of being caught. He'd be pressed back into the corner, nowhere to go. He'd try to maneuver, try to find a way to sneak past his pursuer, but it'd be no use; his Alpha would quickly get into his space, keep him pinned. Merlin would close his eyes, whimper… his mate would press his entire body against Merlin, scent enveloping him, surrounding his entire being, swallowing him. The first hot breath on Merlin's neck made his blood rush, bringing colour to his cheeks and ears. Then, the first touch of his mate's lips on his neck brought a painful throb between his legs.

          Embarrassed, Merlin jumped from the chair and ran to his room. He slammed the door shut and dove under the bedcovers. The coolness of the sheets did nothing to quell his need. With a sudden powerful urge, Merlin undid the laces on his breeches, pulled them down, and then took himself in hand. He hunched into himself, almost as if ashamed he was even doing it, and began to stroke. He didn't go into any teasing like he'd normally do either. He went right into it, squeezing hard, pulling fast. He kept his eyes shut as the images he'd just had a few moments ago popped into his head: his mate cornering him, pinning him with his larger body; the heady musk surrounding him, the heat from his mate's body… the first touch of lips to his skin, to his face, his lips…

          The second Merlin's imagination provided him with his mate's tongue finding his, wrestling with abandon, Merlin groaned, increasing his strokes. His Alpha's saliva would then mix with his, and Merlin swallowed. His cock pulsed embarrassingly hard as he came, spilling over his fist, onto his bed.

          As he slowly came down from the high, face buried in his pillow, he gently tucked himself back into his trousers and fumbled with the laces. He was too exhausted to check if he'd done them up right. He just flopped down, not caring if he'd just landed in his own wet spot.

          When sleep finally took him, his dreams were filled with his mate chasing him, but it wasn't in the same manner as before. This time there was more glee in the chase, more amusement, and less eagerness. Merlin felt himself smile as he let his legs carry him through the forest with little hurry. His mate also lagged behind, not in any rush to end the Hunt.

.-.


	6. Cascading Droplets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this last week, but RL got in the way. Sorry. XD Well, I hope you enjoy! And thank you all for the lovely comments so far. You do my muse a lot of good. <3

Soulmate

Chapter 6

.-.

**Cascading Droplets**

.-.

          Dawn light streamed through the window and found the only gap within Arthur's bed curtains. It hit him smack dab in the face. He groaned as his maddening wet dream suddenly faded. Groaned louder when he opened his eyes a sliver and got blasted with blinding light. He shielded his eyes with an arm and hissed.

          Arthur's dream had gotten more detailed and arousing since the Hunt. He rolled away from the piercing sunlight and covered his head with a pillow. His erection still ached in a most embarrassing way and his bed sheets stuck to all the bare places. He wanted to take care of his morning problem, but like he'd promised before, he wanted to save it all for his Soulmate. It became more and more difficult with each passing day—hell, each passing hour!

          He knew he had to get up. Any moment now, his servant would enter his chambers with breakfast and help him get ready for the coming day. He had training with the knights first thing that morning, and it wouldn't look good if he was late. He was the Crown Prince, and he could arrive late if he wanted, but he also wanted to set a good example. He didn't want his men to decide to slack off just because their prince was.

          So he willed his erection away by thinking about Morgana and Leon together (they were, after all, considered family). He pulled a face. That had done it. And just in time, too, because there was a soft knock on the door. Arthur sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He bunched up the blankets in his lap, just in case he hadn't rid himself of his morning problem completely.

          "Enter," he croaked.

          "Good morning, Sire," his manservant Morris said, voice a slight high tenor. He shut the door quietly behind him and came in carrying a silver tray laden with Arthur's usual breakfast: meat, cheese, bread, eggs, and mixed nuts. "How are you feeling?"

          "How should I be feeling?" Arthur snapped. He barely contained the harshness of his tone, but some of it might have slipped out anyway. He sighed, rubbed his face tiredly, and gingerly made his way out of bed.

          "Rough night, then?" Morris said. His back was still to Arthur as he made to put the breakfast tray on Arthur's desk. Without being told, Morris carefully moved the documents and other important papers out of the way before setting the tray down. If Arthur wasn't so weary right now, he'd smack his servant upside the head for touching his private papers without permission.

          "None of your business, Morris," Arthur growled. Without ceremony, he plopped down into his chair and began to eat. He struggled to keep his mind on his food and not what he'd just dreamt. Although, most of it had faded now. He could still sense a phantom image in his mind's eye. The more Arthur concentrated, though, the dimmer the silhouette became. Soon, the shadowy shape of his Intended would be nothing but wispy smoke. He growled low again as he glared straight ahead into space. He began to hate his dreams, but at the same time he looked forward to them so that he could get a glimpse of his Omega again.

          "I apologize, Sire," Morris said, and Arthur nearly missed it thanks to his deep reverie. "I meant no disrespect." He bowed deeply.

          Arthur waved it away as if it were no big deal. As he continued to eat, Morris went about his usual chores: he made the bed, put Arthur's dirty clothes away, retrieved the clean clothes that Arthur would wear today, and tended the fire.

          He let the familiar routine wash over him, bringing him back to a calmer state. Arthur started feeling more alert, thinking of the training ahead of him. Gwaine, Percival, Owain, Hector, Kay, Leon, and Elyan would be there on the training field. He pictured who would practice with whom, what drills they'd be doing, and what they would work on. He and Leon were the most seasoned, so they'd pair with separate dueling partners. Arthur had to help Elyan with his footwork. Leon should spar with Owain to see if he watched his left side. Percival could practice his swordwork with Gwaine. If there was anyone else that rivaled Arthur's ability with a sword, Gwaine was it. Even though, at times, Gwaine drove him crazy, the man was probably the best swordsman Arthur's ever known, next to himself – and Lancelot.

          His fork paused midway to his mouth. Lancelot was one of the best fighters he'd known, and yet thanks to that little rule about only noblemen and lords becoming knights, he couldn't deem Lancelot worthy of the title.

         It wasn't fair, and Arthur wished that there was something he could do about it, but sadly there wasn't. Not while Uther was king, anyway. It wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts, of course. He'd thought about knighting Lancelot secretly, but if his father ever found out, his status would not protect him. By breaking such a rule, Uther could very well put his own son in the dungeons until such a time deemed long enough. At the moment, that wouldn't be a good idea; especially since he had a Soulmate to find.

          Arthur was resolute in his one thought, though: the moment he was crowned king, he planned to make Lancelot a knight. It was only appropriate. Besides, if Elyan could earn himself an earldom and become a knight, why not Lancelot? All Elyan had done to earn it was create a specific kind of sword for the king to use during one of the important alpha tournaments—which helped the king to win. And how was that fair to Lancelot, if Lancelot couldn't even earn an earldom and knighthood by other heroic deeds?

         Perhaps it also had to do with Elyan's father, Tom. Didn't seem fair to Arthur, really; Tom's been the resident blacksmith for many, dedicated years. Tom had died about a year ago—around the same time Elyan was asked to make that sword. Arthur could kind of see the reasoning behind knighting Elyan, but it still didn't seem fair that Lancelot didn't earn a knighthood, too. It made Arthur wonder, briefly, if there was a personal reason behind Uther not knighting Lancelot. Should he even bother asking about it? He'd probably be told that it wasn't important, and that he should trust his king's word.

          Quickly finishing his breakfast, he stood to allow Morris to dress him. Arthur didn't pay much attention, letting his mind continue to wander as Morris dressed him with practiced ease; Arthur was so used to the motions that his body moved routinely. Soon, he was standing in front of the mirror as Morris put on the finishing touches.

          "There you go, Sire," Morris said sweetly. He brushed off Arthur's shoulders. "I have the rest of your armour ready in the antechamber. Shall I fetch it now?"

          "Yes, and hurry," Arthur said. "I mustn't be late for training."

          As Morris hurried to obey, Arthur continued to stare at himself in the mirror. He saw his image and yet didn't as his mind wandered. He had to come up with a way to make his father stop trying to set him up with potential Omegas. At the moment, the only thing he could do was find his Intended and hope that everything went well between them so that there were no troubles mating once his Soulmate went into heat.

          Before Arthur could grasp any sort of idea on how to achieve it, Morris returned with an armful of armour pieces. Arthur turned when Morris appeared by his side and allowed him to suit him up. He had to do training drills, and it wasn't just because he was an Alpha in need of releasing some pent up sexual frustration. This was something that was done almost every morning after breakfast. He had to keep his knights in tiptop shape so that Camelot was well protected. He also had to make sure his knights were letting off their own personal steam. It wouldn't do to have a bunch of alphas running about wildly, causing disturbances. It had happened a few times before, but those times were now few and far between. Arthur learned the hard way that the best kind of discipline for any alpha—True or not—was physical outlets. Anything that had an alpha let off steam and extra energy was good. Arthur should know, seeing how he was a True Alpha himself.

          As he made his way down, he was half-tempted to seek out his Soulmate again. The scent that lingered in the citadel was faint, and it wouldn't be impossible for him to try sniffing them out. But he couldn't allow himself to get distracted. He had a duty as the Crown Prince, and as Champion of Camelot, to train with his fellow knights. Again, he had to overcome his more base urges and continue on toward the training field.

          Once he arrived, he was greeted by his knights: Sirs Leon, Elyan, Percival, Owain, Hector, Kay, and a handful of other novice noblemen. Leon was there to greet him first, eyes lackluster and mouth set in a grim line.

          "Sire," Leon said, dutifully bowing.

          "Sir Leon," Arthur said. He placed a hand onto Leon's shoulder. "Are you well? You're looking… peaked, and diverted. Should you even be here?"

          "I'll be fine, Sire. Truly, I will be."

          But Leon looked far from fine. Arthur knew it had something to do with Morgana, but he wasn't sure if he should bring the subject up. He wasn't even sure if his questioning would be appropriate; Leon might consider it an invasion of privacy. Arthur was the Crown Prince, but even he understood that everyone needed some sort of private life.

          "Still," Arthur said finally, "if you ever feel the need to stop training, let me know. I understand what you're going through. You don't need to keep up such pretense with me." He hoped his underlining message of _'you can talk to me about anything'_ got through to the other alpha.

          Leon nodded. "I know, Sire, and I appreciate your sentiments. If I feel any differently, I'll let you know straightaway."

          "Good," Arthur said. "By the by, where is Sir Gwaine? He's usually the first one here."

         Gwaine was one of the best swordsmen Arthur's sparred with. It didn't matter to him if Gwaine was a bit of a playboy. As long as the other alpha understood the rules of being a Camelot knight, and obeyed them, it didn't matter to Arthur what Gwaine did during his personal hours.

          "I'm not sure where he is, Sire," Leon said. His gaze wandered the training field instinctually. "Maybe he accidentally slept in."

          "He hasn't done that since he was first knighted. But I hope that that's all it is. I'd hate for anything to happen to one of my best men."

          As Arthur made his way over to the middle of the field, sword in hand, he caught a faint whiff of a familiar scent on the wind. He stopped, lifted his head, and sniffed wildly. He pivoted abruptly when he sensed the smell getting closer. Was it… it couldn't be. There was no way he'd be so lucky.

          But no, it wasn't his Soulmate. His eyes landed on Sir Gwaine making his way gleefully toward them. Gwaine had a wide grin on his face, as if he had just received some sort of honorable reward for something heroic. He swaggered as he walked, eyes glittering and cheeks high with colour.

          Then, Arthur caught that scent again: the scent of his Soulmate. It practically radiated off Gwaine, mingling with Gwaine's Alpha scent.

          Arthur saw _red_.

.-.

          Merlin woke as he normally did every morning: cock hard and arse seeping wet. But at least this time he hadn't been fingering himself.

          Again, he had that same dream about his Soulmate, except this time it was a little more detailed. After that exciting, yet fearful, chase that went on last night, his dream Alpha would tease the hell out of Merlin. He would stalk, as usual, chasing Merlin round the castle and then outside around the woods. But whenever it seemed like his Alpha was about to catch Merlin, he'd let go. Merlin would then run away and try to find another hiding place. Then the Hunt was on again, and again he sensed his Soulmate stalking him, coming ever so close to where he was. Whenever he found him, Merlin would leap from his hiding spot and take off. The chase was on again.

          It went on like that: the Hunt, the Chase, and then the successful Find. But then Merlin would run, find a new hiding place, and it would start all over again. Nearly everytime his Soulmate had found him, it felt as if he was cornered and there would be no wiggling out of it. It had become harder and harder to want to squirm away. He wanted to let his Soulmate catch him, and he wanted some kind of confrontation, so that he knew more about this Soulmate of his, but it never happened.

          Merlin sighed, feeling both tired and oddly fervent. He wondered if would happen again in his next dream, and would he get caught this time. Would his Soulmate pin him to the wall, or on the bed, and mark him? Would his mate bite and suck his brand onto Merlin's skin? More importantly, would Merlin let him? He resigned himself to continue wondering as he washed himself with a washrag soaked in suppressant herbs. It wouldn't be a good idea to walk around the castle with his trousers wet with morning slick (he blamed his dream, of course, otherwise he shouldn't be leaking like this).

          He sped his way through breakfast, not noticing what he ate, his mind a million miles away. Gaius stared at him oddly from across the table, and when Merlin finally noticed, he tried to flash Gaius a reassuring grin.

          "Are you feeling all right, Merlin?" Gaius asked. "You look… well, you don't look too rested. Didn't you get enough sleep?"

          Merlin sighed. "I got plenty. That's the problem." He tried not to remember his highly sensual dream.

          "Too much sleep, then? That can sometimes happen. If you're feeling sluggish, I could whip up a Restorative Potion for you. It shouldn't take me long." Gaius stood from his spot and quickly shuffled over to the bookshelf. "I've got the recipe right here—"

          "I'm sure I'll be fine, Gaius," Merlin said tersely. "Thanks for worrying about me, though." He finished up his breakfast and stretched. "Well, I suppose I could get on with those chores you wanted me to start on this morning. I don't want to be doing it all day, so I best start now."

          Gaius turned on the spot and stared, as if torn between wanting to mix Merlin's potion up or let Merlin get on with his daily chores.

          Presently, he relented. "Yes, yes, I suppose you should. Just don't forget to tell Olwen not to drink his elixir in one gulp this time. The last time he did, he was sick as a dog and I had to give him something to force him to vomit."

          Merlin cringed sympathetically, a hand going to his own stomach. "I can imagine… yeah, I'll make sure he doesn't drink it all." He took the bottle from Gaius.

          "Also, I need more cloves, nettles, and dandelions." Gaius added quickly before Merlin walked out the door: "And no nibbling on the nettles!"

          "Yes, sir," Merlin said over his shoulder as he left. It was understood that most pureblooded omegas loved to eat nettles and pokeweed, so that was why Gaius knew to warn Merlin against it. Sometimes Merlin found himself nibbling on some if he didn't pay attention. It was odd how True Omegas liked sweet food, and yet were just as attracted to the bitter stuff. He wondered if it was because of the unique venom flowing through an Omega's veins. (Merlin had the odd notion that maybe that was why Omegas ate such bitter and poisonous things in the first place. Either that, or it was instinct. Maybe something about protecting one's self instinctually; something to do with the genetics…?)

          By the time the sun was near its zenith, Merlin was almost done with his morning chores. It was easy for most omegas to locate anything sour. All he had to do now was locate some nettles. He had a sackful of cloves already, along with other helpful weeds and herbs that Gaius had asked him to fetch. He'd have to go to the other side of the castle in order to find any nettles, though. As he made his way through an open-air hall, past the courtyard, he caught sight of a knight.

          Merlin could tell immediately that the knight was an alpha. Not only that, but the man was a True Alpha—a pureblood. Although his heat wasn't due for weeks, his insides still clenched a little from the brusque cologne that rolled off the alpha knight. The knight wore half-armour and carried a sword on his belt. The moment the man noticed Merlin, his eyes practically lit up. Merlin tried not to cringe outwardly—he had a feeling the Alpha could sense that he was an Omega.

          If he turned around now, he was sure that it wouldn't stop the Alpha from following him. He'd have to just bear going passed the man, hopefully without any incident happening. The shine in the Alpha's eyes could be trouble. Either he was going to try flirting with Merlin, or he'd have enough guts to try groping Merlin's arse as he walked by. If it were the latter, Merlin was definitely going to slap the cur across the face, giving him a bright handprint and maybe even a bruised lip. Merlin was stronger than others gave him credit.

          As Merlin was about to turn his body to try squeezing by, the Alpha stuck an arm out to block his way. Merlin looked up and glowered. The knight grinned cheekily, a bit cocky. Again, Merlin gave the alpha a warning glare and tried to duck under his arm, but the man moved swiftly to catch Merlin round the middle and hauled him around until Merlin's back was against the stonework. The man was strong, and it was no wonder—he was a knight and, of course, an Alpha. They were naturally stronger than most omegas.

          "Hello there, Petal," the knight said. He leaned in close, nostrils flaring. "By the gods, you smell awfully scrummy!"

          The knight's heady musk assailed Merlin's nose, and he liked the aromatic mixture – yet didn't. The man might be a True Alpha, and he might smell nearly tantalizing, but he wasn't his Soulmate. The scent carried a more acrid bite to it than alluring. Yet, Merlin's insides betrayed him, and he suddenly opened—went soft inside—and a small amount of nectar seeped out. He clenched his arse cheeks together to try stop the flow. Even if this Alpha caused his body to react – instincts telling him to give this Alpha a try – Merlin couldn't help but feel panicky.

          "Don't call me that," Merlin warned. He kept up his scowl as he stared into the knight's dark brown eyes. Another reason why he knew this man wasn't his Soulmate. In Merlin's dreams, his Soulmate's eyes were cornflower blue.

          "Then how about Pet? Flower? Honeybee?"

          "Absolutely not!" Merlin tried to move, but the Alpha moved with him, kept him trapped. This sort of thing was something he'd only allow his Soulmate to do, not some strange Alpha. "You call me any of those names again, and I'll box your ears!"

          "Ooo, you're a fiesty Omega!" The Alpha knight beamed. "We rarely get your kind round here." The man leaned in as close as he dared to Merlin's face. "Well, there's the Lady Morgana, but she doesn't count. She's in a class all her own." He grinned, hoping Merlin would join in his private joke, but Merlin only stared. "Er, so. What's your name, then?"

          "You think I'd tell you?" Merlin scoffed.

          "Unless you'd rather I call you any of those names I mentioned," the Alpha warned. "I could always think up other names. Hmm," the man pretended to think. "How about Sweetcakes? Rosebud? Sugarplum?"

          "It's Merlin." He didn't want to tell this strange Alpha his name before his Soulmate knew it, but the last thing he wanted was for the man to sprout annoying endearments at him from across the courtyard. He didn't want anyone getting the wrong impression.

          "Merlin," the knight said. "That's a decent name. It's a type of bird, yeah?"

          "Falcon," Merlin said, trying not to puff up too much. He was proud of his name's meaning. If he had to be named after a bird, at least it was a predatory bird.

          "A small one though, yeah?" The Alpha grinned. "That's cute."

          Merlin narrowed his eyes. "A falcon is a bird of prey, for your information. They're not the kind of bird one should take for granted."

          "Still small," the man said. He ran his nose up Merlin's neck; sniffed and groaned as if in pain. "And cute. Like you, love."

          "Not small," Merlin huffed. He put a hand—the free hand not holding onto the sack of herbs—onto the Alpha's chest. That was a mistake. Although the man wore chainmail, Merlin could still tell that he was quite fit. The Alpha didn't back down at all. Instead, he pushed Merlin harder against the wall and dragged his lips and nose up Merlin's neck, inhaling deeply. Merlin's legs shook. He swallowed down a moan. Panic warred with irritation.

          "Still—you're adorable, and smell heavenly. You're unmated, aren't you? I can tell you're Cherry, and it's doing dangerous things to my wits."

          "I don't—I mean, yes, I do have someone," Merlin tried. "I have a mate—"

          "Can't smell anyone on you," the Alpha said. His lips brushed Merlin's skin everytime he talked. He chanced a taste, poking out his tongue. Merlin shivered and tried to push the man away again. "Just your sweet perfume—"

          "I have someone," Merlin protested. "Just… haven't met him yet. He's here, though… somewhere—"

          "Maybe it's me. The name's Gwaine, by the way. In case you want to know what to call out while I take you—"

          An image of bending over for Gwaine—and allowing Gwaine to enter him—flashed through Merlin's mind, causing blood to rush quickly to his face.

          "I have a _Soulmate_!" Merlin blurted out in frustration. "So thanks, but no thanks—"

          Merlin squawked when Gwaine wrapped a sucking kiss onto his neck and squeezed his arse, hard. His body disobeyed him again, and more aromatic nectar leaked, wetting his trousers. He wasn't even in heat, for fuck's sake! Did all True Alphas do this to True Omegas?

          "I could make you forget all about him—" Gwaine moaned. He sounded as if he were in pain, and if Merlin looked down he would probably see just why. Armour wasn't very kind to an aroused Alpha.

          Merlin squirmed, his mind suddenly on high alert. The thought of some other alpha taking him before his Soulmate did sent his stomach fluttering sourly. He felt nauseous, and he gagged on a sudden rush of astringent scents. He coughed, tasting bile. Gwaine pushed his body firmly against Merlin's, rubbing his scent onto Merlin, getting Merlin's scent onto him in the process.

          Merlin finally saw an opening and took it: he wiggled down one way as if about to escape, and when Gwaine moved with him, he brought a leg up and smacked it into the knight's semi-protected crotch. Gwaine jerked back instinctually, as if he were really about to get the full-on pain of a knee to the groin, but had forgotten that he'd worn something of a codpiece. He never went into any sort of bout—real or not—without some kind of protection around his family jewels. Most alphas were very fastidious about that. It was an aspect of theirs that alphas always took seriously in protecting. It was what made an alpha an alpha.

          Gwaine's slight movement was just enough for Merlin to find some wiggle room and escape from his clutches. Gwaine tried to capture Merlin again, but Merlin was too quick-footed for him and danced out of the way. Gwaine moaned longingly at Merlin's retreating back.

          "Please don't run away," he called. "I promise not to stick my knot in if you let me lie with you!"

          Merlin pinked up from Gwaine's words but didn't stop. He quickened his steps toward his destination. He planned on getting the minimum amount of nettles and then making a beeline to Gaius's. He cursed all handsy alphas in his head as he ran, wishing his agony were over with already.

          The promise Gwaine had given wasn't to be trusted. Stories had been told of some alphas promising just that to other omegas, but it was quickly forgotten in the heat of the moment. As the alpha tried to keep the lovemaking to a more normal type, emotions would run high, especially for the alpha. One thing would lead to another, and before they knew it, the alpha would have his swollen knot in the omega, and they would then be stuck like that for hours. Unless, of course, the omega was lucky and they didn't click. Then the alpha's knot would soften and the omega could get away.

          But Merlin didn't want to risk it, no matter what his body was telling him. He might have not minded Gwaine too much, but Gwaine still smelled, and felt, wrong. Gwaine was not his Soulmate, so there was no way he should let Gwaine take him.

          He was at Gaius's before he knew it. Gaius looked surprised to see Merlin back already. Merlin set the sack of stuff down quickly, mind awhirl as he thought of what to do next. He had been in such a hurry to get away from Gwaine that he hadn't even thought of nibbling on any nettles, not even once.

          "You all right, Merlin?" Gaius said. "You look hot and bothered."

          "Don't really want to talk about it," Merlin said. "I just—I don't know what I want to do, but… I need a little break before I get on with whatever else you want me to do today…"

          Gaius seemed to understand, especially because of how Merlin looked. He nodded. "Yeah, all right. I guess you've earned it. But not too long a break. You need time to eat."

          Merlin glanced at the room he'd been staying in while with Gaius and a brief thought of sleep came and went. His mind suddenly supplied him with an image of Gwen and Lancelot. He hadn't known them long, but he still felt safe when they were around. He didn't waste much more time thinking on it. He turned on a heel and left.

          He headed toward the lower town, hoping Gwen and Lancelot wouldn't mind another visit from him so soon.

.-.

          The second Gwaine came within sniffing distance, Arthur detected it straightaway.

          His Soulmate's scent. It practically poured off Gwaine as if he glowed with it. The look on Gwaine's face took on a whole new meaning then, too. The bastard had just _molested_ his Soulmate!

          He wasn't the only one that could smell it on Gwaine. The rest of the knights, Leon included, turned and stared—nostrils quivering. The moment Leon realized where he'd smelled that scent before, Arthur no long stood beside him.

         Arthur reacted before he fully knew what he was doing: he unsheathed his sword from its scabbard and raised it above his head.

          Gwaine immediately noticed and, because he was one of Arthur's best swordsmen, spun out of the way of Arthur's slashing blade and removed his own sword from his belt. He quickly blocked the next swing, eyes wide and throat bobbing.

          "Arthur, what are you—" Gwaine gasped, then had to move swiftly again to parry and block more of Arthur's wild swings.

          "You touched _my Soulmate_!" Arthur snarled. Their swords met between them with a loud clang. Arms bunched up in the strain.

          Gwaine's eyes widened even further, suddenly realizing what he'd just done. Merlin's words rang through his head: _"I have a Soulmate!"_ Bloody hell, Prince Arthur was Merlin's Soulmate! If he'd known that, he would have avoided Merlin like the plague. Gwaine didn't overly care for royal persons, but it was different with Arthur. Ever since first meeting Arthur, Gwaine had grown to respect him. Arthur was a great man, chivalrous and honorable. Arthur was the embodiment of a true knight, and a loyal friend, so the last thing Gwaine would ever want to do was anger him.

          "I didn't know he was yours," Gwaine said hurriedly. He continued to block and parry Arthur's moves as he tried to reason with him. "Honest, Arthur, I didn't know! I'm sorry! Maybe if you hurry, you'll catch him up—"

          Arthur nearly paused at Gwaine's words, but his ears still rung as rage overtook him. When Gwaine slowed down, thinking Arthur stopped, he didn't get his guard up in time. Arthur swung low and the tip of his blade found an unprotected spot in Gwaine's armour. Gwaine cried out and stepped back half a pace, almost going down on one knee, a hand on his side.

          "Sire, wait," Leon tried, desperate. "You'll kill him if you continue to—"

          "He _molested_ my mate," Arthur roared. He brought his sword up again, wild-eyed and heaving with breath. "I can smell it on him—the bastard tried to lie with _my_ Soulmate!"

          Gwaine brought his sword up to block Arthur's downward thrust and went down on one knee at the same time. He continued to defend himself, mind whirling, as he thought on how to calm his prince down. Leon and Elyan also tried to placate their Frenzied prince, but anything they said didn't seem to register.

       Everyone watching soon realized that their prince was going into an Alpha Frenzy. It was hazardous to a person's health if one tried to get in the way of a Frenzied Alpha. The target of the Frenzied Alpha usually didn't live for very long either, so the knights frantically tried to figure out how to calm Arthur down. At the same time, they tried to keep from getting in the way of Arthur's crazed attacks. It wasn't easy. They could only do the "softly, softly" approach, but the success rate of stopping an Alpha Frenzy wasn't very high.

          "I swear, I didn't get anywhere with him," Gwaine entreated, face turning bright pink with exertion, and maybe a little fear. "I only groped—er, I mean—he turned me down, told me he had a Soulmate—"

          "He?" Sir Hector said. He looked at Arthur for a moment before bringing his shocked gaze back to Gwaine. "Did you say _he_?"

          "Yes," Gwaine said, but he was talking to Arthur. "Your Soulmate is a _man_ , Sire… a _male_ Omega!" He grunted from another block, the slice on his side stung horribly. Adrenaline now fueled him to continue fighting for his life; otherwise, he'd be on the ground right now, holding his side in agony. But if he stopped for even a second, Arthur would take his head off.

          Arthur faltered, pausing mid-swing. His chest heaved as he stared crazy-eyed at Gwaine, indecisive. His instincts screamed at him, telling him to kill this alpha who had dared to touch what was his. But Gwaine's words, and the others in the background who pleaded and begged him to stop, finally sunk in. If he kept at it he would, without a doubt, kill Gwaine. And he really didn't want that. Gwaine was one of his best knights. If he lost Gwaine, Camelot's front line of defense would be weakened. That was how good Gwaine was as a knight and protector. And Arthur trusted Gwaine with his life, espeically when on the battlefield. Gwaine was one of the knights that always had his back, and oftentimes he had found Gwaine's back against his during many melees.

          "His name's Merlin," Gwaine said, sensing his chance. Arthur's frenetic rage slowly ebbed. His sword lowered, stance non-threatening.

          "Merlin…" Arthur whispered. That wasn't the name from his dream, he was sure of it (otherwise, hearing his Soulmate's soul-name from another's lips would retrigger his Frenzy). He would find out his mate's soul-name once they touched, but the given name was just as sweet to hear. His vision started to clear and his heart rate slowed.

          "Yes, that's what he said his name was," Gwaine said. "And I'm sorry, truly I am. Please, Arthur—Sire—I yield. I won't touch Merlin again, I swear."

          Leon placed a calming hand onto Arthur's shoulder. "Please, Sire. I think you've made your point. Put the sword away."

          Arthur nearly shook Leon's hand off his shoulder and snapped at him, but he realized that Leon was right. It wasn't as if Gwaine deliberately set out to court his Soulmate—his _Merlin_.

          His Soulmate's name reverberated in his head: _Merlin, Merlin, Merlin…_ It flittered around like a beautiful songbird.

          Finally, what felt like an entire moon cycle, Arthur lowered his sword and turned away. Elyan and Percival immediately went to Gwaine and helped him to his feet.

          "Gwaine needs to see Gaius," Percy said, ever the pragmatic one. "He needs stitching up."

          Gwaine's eyes widened in horror. "No, not – not a _needle_! Oh bloody hell…" he choked.

          Arthur secretly smirked, head turned away. He shouldn't feel pleased or gleeful at all about what Gwaine was about to endure, but his baser instincts felt vengeful (and hearing the fear in Gwaine's voice actually calmed Arthur). Gwaine, having to face his fear of needles, got off lightly; the alternative for Gwaine would have been death. Arthur would've hated himself for it, too, and would have grieved for years. It was a good thing the other knights were there, especially Leon. It was also a good thing Gwaine was a great swordsman, or he might not have lasted as long as he had against Arthur.

          Reluctantly, Arthur glanced at the tip of his sword. Blood trickled down the side. He felt sick. He couldn't believe he'd lost all sense in that moment. It was as if he'd walked in on Gwaine mounting his Soulmate. If he ever saw that for real, what would he have done? Would he have actually killed Gwaine? His instincts toward his Soulmate would have overridden any sensible reaction; the moral of not to kill in cold blood would have gone out the window.

          "You all right now, Sire?" Elyan asked. Arthur turned abruptly, emotions still warring within him. He nearly raised his hand to the knight, but caught himself in time. He didn't answer Elyan right away. His gaze landed on the knights that left the training field. Percival, Leon, and Hector were helping bring Gwaine to see Gaius. He understood why Percival and Leon were doing it, but what was the reason for Hector going with?

          "I'll—I'll be fine," Arthur said. "I think I'll just practice on my own for a while. The rest of you can go home if you wish, relax for a bit, or you can stay and do your own training. It's up to you, really."

          "Thank you, Sire," Elyan said. He looked back and watched Gwaine being hauled away. "I hope Sir Gwaine will be all right."

          Arthur hoped so too, now that the initial urge to kill was gone. He stayed still for a while, thinking about everything and nothing (and he tried his damnest not to think about his Soulmate). Then he grabbed a rag, cleaned the blood off his sword nonchalantly, and went to pummel a dummy.

.-.

          Merlin stood staring at Gwen's front door for almost a full minute before he shook himself out of it. At first, he wasn't sure if he'd be welcomed back so soon. He'd had planned on seeing them for tea later, but it wasn't even noon yet and here he was, needy for comfort and kindness.

          He knocked sharply on the wooden door. He waited. Sounds of movement could be heard as well as a muffled "just a minute!" It sounded like Gwen.

          When she opened the door and saw Merlin standing morosely on her stoop, Merlin said, "Hi. Is it all right if I come in?"

          Gwen noticed the emotions playing on his face, and she ushered him inside. "Yes, of course, Merlin. Come in. I'll put on a pot of tea."

          "Thanks, Gwen. I really appreciate it."

          "Who is it, Gwen?" Lancelot said. He entered the hut from the back door, a dirty rag in his hands. "Oh, Merlin. It's good to see you again. Are you staying for tea?" Just from the smell, Merlin could tell that Lancelot had been working in the back garden. They must have a small plot of land for vegetables and other such plants. It wasn't unheard of for a mated pair to own a garden.

          "Yes," Merlin said. "If it's all right with you."

          "It's perfectly all right," Lancelot smiled. He looked over and watched his mate put a teakettle into the fireplace. "If my beloved is fine with it, then I'm fine with it."

          Gwen showed Merlin to a chair and then bustled around the tiny kitchen, taking out three cups and a small bowl. Merlin didn't know what was inside it until she took off the lid. There were many little sugar cubes inside. Gwen set everything up in the middle of the table, dusted her hands off on her apron, and then went to the cupboard. When she opened it, Merlin was surprised to see it filled with tins and boxes. She took one out and brought it to the table. She opened it, and the sweet aroma hit Merlin smack-dab between the eyes.

          "I normally don't share these with other omegas that I've just met," Gwen explained as she hurried to the kettle. "But you're different, Merlin. I can sense that we'll be great friends."

          Merlin grinned. "I have sensed it, too. But I didn't know that an Omega could sense their friends as well as their mate."

          Gwen blushed. "I don't think that's how it works. I just mean that I have a good feeling about you."

          Lancelot nodded. "Her instincts about others are usually spot on. So go ahead, Merlin, help yourself."

          "Blimey," Merlin said. He was nearly lost for words as he stared at the sugary treats before him. After he glanced between Gwen and Lancelot, worried it was all a joke, Merlin slowly reached for one of the marzipans. "You're sure I can have some? Seriously?"

          "Go ahead," Gwen said. "It won't do any harm to our savings."

          Although still somewhat reluctant, Merlin took another marzipan, two sugarplums, and one baked pumpkin "doughnut". He took a large bite out of the doughnut, crumbs falling from his fingers.

          "Oh, gods above… it's good!"

          Gwen blushed, ducking her head. "Thanks, Merlin. I baked them myself."

          Merlin's eyes bugged out. "You baked this pumpkin delight?" he gasped. "That's fantastic!"

          "She's a brilliant cook," Lancelot said. He set his dirty rag onto a bench in the corner and sat on Merlin's left. "I couldn't have asked for a better mate."

          As Merlin ate, his gaze wandered their house. He noticed that there was a soft-looking mound in the corner. Upon closer scrutiny, Merlin realized that all those blankets, pillows, and other soft objects were on a bed. Because of all the stuff on it, the bed had been practically invisible. Then Merlin's memory supplied him with what he saw: it was an _omega nest_.

          Merlin vaguely recalled that when an omega was close to going into heat, or was pregnant with their mate's child, they would build a nest and stay in it. Or as they'd normally say: nest in it. When Gwen noticed Merlin staring at her nest, she blushed and said, "Er, I was just about to snuggle down into my nest when you had knocked on our door—"

          "Oh," Merlin said. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. I can go if you want me to—"

          "No, it's okay," Gwen quickly said. "You can stay. Er, actually." She beamed even brighter. "I would like it if you, uh, if you would like to…" She gestured shyly toward her nest.

          After a few moments of staring blankly at her and then the nest, it finally registered in his mind: she wanted to share! It wasn't often when an omega was willing to share their nest with anyone else other than their alpha. Then again, Merlin was another omega, and he had a Soulmate. Maybe because of that Merlin wasn't a threat, and therefore it was safe to share.

          Still, Merlin couldn't help but feel flattered by the invitation. "Thank you, Gwen. If you really want me to share the nest with you, I'd be honored. That is, if your mate doesn't mind." He glanced at Lancelot.

          "I don't mind," Lancelot said, smiling. "If Gwen wants to, and it would make her happy to do so, then I'm fine with it."

          "Thank you, love," Gwen said. She beamed proudly at her alpha.

          Merlin quickly finished his delicacies and bounded over to the nest. Gwen and Lancelot followed him, watching him the whole while. Merlin studied the nest, and just looking at it made Merlin feel safe and warm. There wasn't too big a fire going on in the fireplace, he noticed, and it was probably because they had planned on snuggling up in the nest. The blankets looked incredibly soft – some were silk, some cotton, and others some sort of wool. There were also pillows filled with all sorts of soft materials, including feathers. He looked back over his shoulder at Lancelot and Gwen, gauging their reactions.

          "Want to be in the middle?" Gwen asked. That, again, was an honor. It wasn't often when a mated pair asked another omega (or alpha) if they wanted to lay between them. Nest sharing happened, but it was usually rare, and sometimes considered taboo in certain societies. (And some were even fine with alphas having a harem!)

          Merlin was choked up, unsure how to respond at first. He stared at their faces, eyes watery.

          "That is, unless you rather not," Gwen continued quickly upon seeing the look on Merlin's face. "It won't hurt my feelings any if you don't want to share with us—"

          "Yes," Merlin decided abruptly. "I mean, I would love to share with you two. I can't stay for the entire night, though, but I will stay… for a little while."

          So that was how Merlin found himself snuggled between Gwen and Lancelot in their nest. Feeling the softness of Gwen's nest made Merlin eager to build his own. But he couldn't do so until he found his Soulmate. He knew that his nest's location would have to be in the bedchamber of his Soulmate; it couldn't be anywhere else.

          Gwen lay nestled on Merlin's left while Lancelot lain on his right. With barely any shyness, they enclosed him. Lancelot's head was frighteningly close to Merlin's, and Gwen rested her head on Merlin's shoulder. They didn't take any clothing off, and if they ever decided to, Merlin was sure that he wouldn't be too embarrassed. Not much, anyway. Although he doubted he'd go so far as to take off his smallclothes.

          Merlin was surprised to find that he fell asleep easily. He felt so secure, safe, and loved. As he fell asleep, he heard one of his bedmates snore lightly. He wasn't the only one that felt so comfortable in such a rare situation.

          When Merlin was deeply asleep, dreams came. As usual, they starred his Soulmate. Instead of running, Merlin found that he walked normally through the woods. He could hear someone behind him, and he knew immediately that it was his Soulmate. He didn't turn around to check, because he didn't need to. There was a faint sound, and Merlin couldn't tell if it was himself speaking or his mate. Oddly, he felt unhurried. Could this even be considered a chase, or was there more to it?

          Merlin found he could tell what his mate felt without even hearing his mate or looking behind him. He could sense that his mate was frustrated, irritated, and grumpy. Merlin had no idea he could actually sense grumpiness, but there it was.

          Then the footsteps behind him suddenly quickened. Merlin fought with his own feet to hurry, but he couldn't go any faster. His feet continued to move at a steady pace, even as his heartbeat sped up and his mind yelled at his body to run. The moment Merlin could feel a hot breath in his ear, he startled awake.

          Hand to his chest, Merlin took in a few deep gulps and tried to slow his breathing. Lancelot and Gwen slept on, not knowing that Merlin had just awoke from another spine-tingling and arousing dream. Although Lancelot and Gwen slept on either side of him, their hands had found each other across Merlin's body, tightly clasped. Merlin stared at their entangled hands, a smile playing on his lips despite himself.

          It took a while for Merlin to will his erection away, but once he did, he turned onto his side, facing Lancelot. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself back to sleep. The last thing he wanted to do now was disturb them, and he didn't want to answer any awkward questions either. He figured a few minutes with them wouldn't be so bad.

.-.

          Gaius tutted, shaking his head forlornly. "What happened now?" he asked as Percival and Leon placed a bleeding Gwaine onto his operating table.

          "Gwaine had accidentally got the wrong scent on him," Percival said with aplomb.

          "Hey, it wasn't my fault!" Gwaine bemoaned. He grit his teeth when Gaius poked around his wound. Finding the opening amongst all the blood, Gaius began to take a wash cloth and clean it best he could. He also used a bit of his healing magic to help things along.

          "It was entirely your fault," Leon said. "You should know better than to flirt with unknown omegas. For all you knew, the omega could have had a mate. Then you'd be facing your third Alpha Duel."

          Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Who did this?" Being a beta, he had little care for the dramatics between alphas and omegas. He also didn't need to ask about what duels Leon was talking about. Gwaine often found himself in the middle of a courting ritual going on between another alpha and an omega. Three out of five of those he'd accidentally come between he'd had to duel, but oddly enough whenever Gwaine won he neither killed the other alpha or took the omega for his own. Gwaine actually had honor enough to know that he'd been in the wrong (it'd been a misunderstanding—just like what happened now with him and Arthur), but he weren't about to die for it.

          "It was Arthur who gave Gwaine the little souvenir," Leon said. "Gwaine was stupid enough to get the scent of Arthur's mate on him."

          "And as I said," Gwaine huffed out, enunciating every word, "I did not know it was his mate!"

          Gaius tutted again. "You should be a bit more careful, Sir Gwaine. You could have gotten yourself killed."

          "How was I to know he belonged to Arthur?" Gwaine pouted. "There were no scent on Merlin to even suggest—"

          A glass jar fell from Gaius's hands. It smashed into small shards, glittering ominously in the firelight.

          "Merlin?" Gaius gasped. "Prince Arthur's Soulmate is _Merlin_?"

          "I take it you know this Merlin," Hector said. He eyeballed Gaius closely. "Care to explain just how? And why hadn't anyone mentioned Merlin during the last meeting of the knights?"

          "Don't grill Gaius," Leon berated the other alpha. "He isn't at fault for what just happened."

          Gaius nodded gratefully at Leon. "Yes, I really hadn't a clue that… well, actually, I did suspect something, but I wasn't certain."

          "You mean when you met Merlin," Percy said, "you had a hunch he was the Omega Arthur was looking for?"

          "Yes," Gaius said. He stood still in quiet contemplation for only a few more seconds before realizing he needed to be fixing up Gwaine's wound. He sprinkled as much antiseptic serum as he could onto the wound before taking out a needle.

          The moment Gwaine's eyes landed on it, he fainted dead away.

          Leon sighed. "A real tower of valor, that one."

          Hector leaned in close to Gwaine, nostrils shuddering and cheeks flushed. "Yeah, he's got the essence of Omega about him." The corner of his lip curled. "It's quite the alluring stench."

          Leon gave Hector a slight nudge of warning. "Don't let Arthur catch you saying that."

          "Incidentally," Gaius said as he tied off the thread on the needle, "you better let the other knights know to stay away from Merlin. We don't want something like this to happen again. Arthur could very well end up killing someone he doesn't mean to kill."

          Everyone in the room knew what Gaius was talking about. If Arthur were to smell Merlin on any other alpha besides Gwaine (and Gwaine was lucky to be such a good swordsman in order to stay alive), that alpha was dead meat. Arthur wasn't just a strong knight and pureblood alpha, but he was the best known fighter in the land. No other fighter, warrior, or knight had come close to beating Arthur yet.

          "You're right," Leon said. "I'll alert the others – knights and guards alike."

          "All the alphas," Gaius said pointedly. "Not just the ones in the king's service."

          Leon and Percival nodded in agreement. Leon vowed to spread the word, and Percy agreed to help in any way possible. Hector just sat there beside Gwaine, eyes unfocused as he stared straight ahead. Leon spared the knight a glance, considered snapping him out of it, but then opted to leave the infirmary in order to do his duty. Percival followed him a few seconds later, not giving even a concerned look to Hector.

          "You may go too, Sir Hector," Gaius said. "Sir Gwaine will be in good hands."

          "Hmm… wha--? Oh, yes, of course." Hector stood slowly, a hazy look still in his eyes. "I guess I best go warn off other alphas too. And the betas, as well, just to be safe." Before leaving, Hector glanced at Gwaine again, nostrils fluttering madly.

          As Gaius started to sew up Gwaine's wound, after washing it as thoroughly as possible, Hector finally left, brows furrowed in thought.

.-.


	7. Diamond Teardrop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, but I wasn't able to get online at all until now. :) Thanks to all for your lovely replies! Hope you continue to like the story.

 

.-.

**Diamond Teardrop**

.-.

          It wasn't easy for Merlin to leave Gwen's nest, but it had to be done; otherwise, Gaius might stick him with a very unpleasant chore for being late.

          He was welcomed to visit Gwen and Lancelot whenever he wished, which was a sure sign that he hadn't done anything embarrassing or upsetting last night. It'd only been sleep, and what wonderful sleep it had been. It'd been Merlin's first time in a nest, and he loved it. He always thought that the first nest he'd sleep in would be his own, but he wasn't about to nitpick.

          Dawnlight broke over the horizon as Merlin made his way to the quarters he shared with Gaius. Before he even opened the door, he sensed a familiar scent, and it didn't belong to his Soulmate, either. He paused at the door, hand splayed on its wood as he tried to decide whether it was worth entering or not.

          His rumbling stomach made his mind up for him. With a heavy sigh, Merlin went inside and quickly, quietly, made his way to the table where he and Gaius would normally eat.

          "It's about time you got back," Gaius said. "Hurry and eat your breakfast. I have a couple chores for you to do before Princess Mithian arrives."

          "Princess Mithian?" Merlin said as he sat. He pulled his plate filled with everyday breakfast items closer and began stuffing his face. He would have observed the normal table manners, but he was ravenous.

          "King Uther is trying to get Arthur to bond with a royal omega," Gaius said. He stared at Merlin with such sad eyes that Merlin's spoon halted halfway to his mouth. Gaius glanced at Gwaine on the medical cot before bringing his gaze back. "Merlin, did you know—"

          Gwaine moaned out a soft pain-filled sound as he woke up, startling Gaius. Before the old Healer could continue his sentence, Gwaine coughed and asked for water. Gaius swiftly obliged.

          "Thanks, Gaius," Gwaine said. He gave Gaius a crooked grin, eyes a little watery and half-lidded from the pain. "May I ask you for some of that great elixir stuff that you gave me last night? My side is killing—"

          Gwaine halted suddenly, nostrils twitching. Slowly, he looked to the other side of the room and noticed Merlin. He let out a small, whimpery gasp. His alpha instincts warred within him. On one hand, his senses enjoyed the scent of an unpaired omega. On the other, he knew now that this particular Omega belonged to Prince Arthur, and if Arthur caught him trying to flirt with Merlin again, he doubted he'd be fast enough to stop Arthur's sword this time.

          "Oh, hey—I thought I smelled something familiar," Gwaine said, tone filled with discomfort. He still tried to put on a friendly smile.

          "Hello," Merlin said, slowly and carefully. "How do you feel?"

          "You really want to know?" Gwaine said, eyes huge. When Merlin stepped closer, Gwaine immediately held up a hand and shouted, "Wait, no, don't come any closer!"

          Merlin stopped in his tracks, spine stiff. "W-what?" he stuttered. It was so completely different from the way Gwaine had acted last time, Merlin was taken aback. To Merlin's knowledge, no alpha had ever said such a thing to an omega.

          Gwaine sank as far as he could into the cot. "I don't want to get your scent on me again. Arthur nearly took my head off last time."

          "So that's why you needed patching up." Merlin paused for a moment, confused. "Wait… when you say Arthur, you don't mean—"

          "Prince Arthur," Gwaine said with a sigh. "He gave me this lovely wound because he'd smelled you on me."

          Merlin continued to stare at Gwaine as if he'd just announced that he was about to voluntarily get his manhood loped off. He couldn't comprehend what the Alpha Knight told him, and yet… the evidence was overwhelming. The only other reason why the Prince of Camelot would attack one of his own knights would have had something to do with Mating Rights or Hunting issues.

          He turned to Gaius. "Please say this isn't true, what Sir Gwaine just said. Tell me he's making this up."

          "I'm afraid not," Gaius said with a soft sigh. "Prince Arthur is, apparently, your Soulmate."

          Merlin opened and closed his mouth, mind reeling and heart hammering. "No, but—I can't be! I'm not even from _royal stock_! Why would—"

          "If you're a pureblood Omega, it doesn't matter," Gaius explained. "And anyway, if someone has a Soulmate, there's nothing that can be done about it, pureblooded or not. They're destined to be together, to… to mate for life." Gaius's cheeks bloomed swiftly with blood.

          Merlin couldn't stop his own embarrassment warming his cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth again, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. "F-for life?"

          "Yes. So you really shouldn't let your scent get on another alpha," Gaius said. "Not right now, anyway. But once you're mated—"

          _Mated_ , thought Merlin, stomach swooping. _To the bloody Prince of Camelot!_

          "—then you can touch anyone you like. Your scent would have already mingled with your mate's, and that way others know that you've got a life partner. Your scent will then be more subdued for others, but at the same time you'll have a strong connection with your mate."

          "Gaius," Merlin said, voice cracking. "When you say _mate for life_ … I mean I know that the first time we tie, I'll get…" Merlin swallowed hard, " _pregnant_. But what about all those other times? I mean—I don't want to be just a broodmare for some pompous prince!"

          Gwaine snorted in amusement, and then coughed as he tried to swallow it down. Knights weren't normally supposed to laugh at their lord's expense, but it sometimes couldn't be helped. Especially if that knight was Gwaine and the knight's lord was Prince Arthur.

          "I guess that would be up to you and Arthur," Gaius said, sounding more sympathetic than before. "There are ways, of course, to curtail pregnancies; but as I've said, that's up to you two."

          "I really don't like the thought of always submitting to whatever my mate says," Merlin expounded. "I mean, sure, I wouldn't mind being dominated by my alpha, but I also want, well…" Merlin shrugged, turned his head away. "I want some _equality_ in my relationship."

          Gaius pressed his lips tightly together. "Merlin, I completely agree with you there. Well, I'm a beta, so of course I like the thought of partners being equal in all things, but not every alpha thinks that."

          "Yeah, I know," Merlin said softly. Being fated to mate with a prince didn't look good. He was probably expected to obey his alpha no matter what, because that was how royalty were raised. The royal pureblooded alphas were pretty much in control in the relationship, end of story. There was no compromise, no equal give and take. At least, that was what Merlin had been told. He knew that normally the alpha was supposed to care for their omega, shield and shelter them; but what if the alpha got upset with their omega? Would the alpha go into a rage and beat their omega? Would the omega, after mating, suddenly feel the urge to obey their alpha in all things? He wasn't sure he wanted that. That wasn't who he was as a person, nor was that the way he wanted to be as an Omega.

          He didn't wish to be tethered. He was _not_ going to let his alpha use him as if he meant nothing, prince or not.

          "That's why omegas like you are called Adamant Omegas, or Adamants," Gaius said. "They're the kind that don't just hop to whenever their alpha tells them to. Some alphas don't like that, so omegas that are stubborn, or _Unyielding,_ toward their alphas are not coveted."

          "What does Prince Arthur like?" Merlin did not believe he just asked that out loud. He coughed into a fist when his cheeks felt a bit warm. "I mean, it's not like I really care, but… do you know if he minds Adamants?"

          "To tell the truth, I never really thought to ask," Gaius said. "You'll have to find out for yourself."

          "If he's my Soulmate, then he shouldn't mind," Merlin said, hands on hips. "At least, I hope he doesn't…" Merlin sagged.

          Gwaine made a soft noise and turned his head away. Merlin looked at him.

          "Do you know, Sir Gwaine?" Merlin dared to hope.

          "Er, well… I don't know if it's true," Gwaine quietly admitted, "but I think I might have heard that Prince Arthur doesn't care for the kind of omega that would just lie back and take it. He might like a bit of a challenge."

          Gaius chuckled softly under his breath. "That does sound like Arthur."

          "If that's true," Merlin said, "then he's definitely getting a challenge." His eyes hardened, as if they themselves were made of adamantine.

          "I believe it," Gwaine sighed.

          Gaius coughed. "But, Merlin, before you're committed to giving just such a challenge to our illustrious Prince, I want you to deliver something to the Lady Morgana for me. And by all that's deified, do not drink it! I'm not in the mood to make another dose."

          "Yes, sir," Merlin said dutifully.

.-.

          Arthur wanted to maim or kill something, and with any luck it would be the latter. His father was a stubborn arse about the issue of Arthur's Soulmate. He tried to reason with Uther, but no matter what he'd said, Uther refused to see sense. It made Arthur wonder, not for the first time, what century his father lived in. People these days didn't care whether the alpha or omega was royalty; what mattered most was that they _clicked_ , and had healthy children. That was all that should matter to anyone. But, no, not King Uther. His mind apparently lived in the Beastly Era where alphas just took whomever they wanted, and to hell with what anyone else thought.

          "You will not disobey me in this, Arthur," Uther said sternly. "I just got word that Princess Mithian is on her way here, and you will treat her with the utmost respect that all Omega princesses deserve."

          "Of course I will, Father," Arthur said. "I won't treat her as if she were a Gelding or any sort of common half-breed. You needn't worry about that—"

          "Good. I will expect that you give her every courtesy—"

          "—I just don't think I should get her hopes up," Arthur stubbornly continued. "I already have a Soulmate. He's here in the castle, right now. I just have to—"

          "Not another word about—" Uther came to a dead stop. He stared at Arthur peculiarly, eyes narrowed. "Did you just say… _he_?"

          "I did," Arthur said. He raised his chin in defiance. For most of the world, it didn't matter that an omega was male or female, or _both_. What mattered was that the alpha and omega _clicked_ , and that there were healthy offspring. That was also why it didn't matter if the omega was born royalty or not. As long as they were full-blooded, or as near-full as possible, none of that mattered. However, with some of the older conservative noblemen, image and prestige was higher on the list.

          Uther continued to stare at his son as if he didn't recognize him. "No," he uttered.

          A delicate, blond eyebrow rose in shock… but only just. "No?"

          "I will not permit you to tie with another man—"

          "But he's—"

          "And that's final! You shall do everything in your power to make sure you _click_ with Princess Mithian. She comes from good breeding stock, she's a princess, and we will benefit greatly from the alliance."

          "Father—"

          "My decision is final," Uther boomed. "We have traditions to uphold, and I will not let you besmirch our good name."

          "I'm not besmirching anything!"

          "Be silent now," Uther ordered. "Go and prepare for Princess Mithian's arrival. I want her to feel so welcome here that she believes to be still at home." Uther's eyes narrowed when Arthur didn't move. "Go! That's an order, Arthur."

          Arthur had no choice but to obey. It was a day like today that Arthur wished he hadn't been born a nobleman. Sometimes he wished he were a beta. They didn't have to go through this sort of bullshit.

.-.

          The first knock wasn't loud enough, so Merlin had to knock again and this time he put a bit more force into it. He winced when his knock echoed throughout the hall louder than he'd liked.

          The door creaked open and Leon's face peeked from the crack. "Yes? Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded.

          "Um," Merlin said, almost at a loss for words. Leon smelled exactly like how he'd smelled during the Alpha Duel, only it was tempered with an indolent aroma. Merlin tried his best to give Leon a friendly smile. "Gaius sent me." He held up the potion vial. "He said that Lady Morgana will need this."

          "Oh!" Leon said, realization dawned on his face. He looked—and smelled—more amiable. "Yes, thank you." Leon opened the door wider for Merlin to enter. "Sorry for my behavior. I expected Gaius and became immediately wary when I saw someone I didn't recognize."

          "I'm Gaius's nephew, and assistant, Merlin." He gave the vial to Leon when he noticed Leon held out a hand. "I'm still fairly new around here. Just learning how things work and all that."

          Leon's nostrils quivered. "You're also an Omega." The aromatic omega-scent that surrounded Merlin was familiar, but because Leon had been in the room with Morgana for so long, and the fact that he was practicially engaged to her, he couldn't quite place where he'd smelled Merlin before. It could also be because Merlin wasn't going through any kind of heat at the moment, so it wasn't as potent.

          Merlin stared, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, even with his cheeks warming. "Yeah, I am."

          "Good," Leon said. He wandered over to where the bed was located. "That means I can let some of my guard down."

          Merlin understood the meaning behind Leon's words. If Merlin were another alpha, Leon's instincts would probably kick in, and he wouldn't have trusted Merlin enough to let him inside.

          He automatically followed Leon, wondering if he could assist them in any way. At the moment he wasn't sure how he'd assist, but he was willing to do whatever he could. He stayed at a respectful distance, in case Lady Morgana was in a bad mood and decided to throw sharp objects—Omegas were prone to odd temperaments sometimes when emotions were high. He glanced behind him to make sure the door was still open for a quick escape.

          Morgana sat up in bed, wearing a powder-blue nightgown over her lacy sleeping attire. She looked alarmed at first when she saw Merlin enter behind Leon, but suddenly relaxed. Merlin guessed she could tell that he wasn't an alpha. She seemed out of it – almost irredivivous.

          "Gaius sent you this," Leon said, handing Morgana the vial.

          "Bless him," Morgana said with a soft sigh. Her face was haggard and her eyes were glassy. "I knew he'd come through for me."

          Leon sat carefully on the edge of the bed. "Anything else you require, love?"

          "No, nothing," Morgana said. "Just more rest." Before she got the chance to uncork the vial, she looked round Leon's bulk and stared at Merlin. "You seem familiar… like I've known you from somewhere. Do you need any help?"

          "Oh, um… I was about to ask you that very question," Merlin said. He took a few cautious steps forward. "I'm Gaius's new assistant, and nephew, Merlin. I've been helping him with stuff, like deliveries and whatnot."

          Morgana's smile was small and lopsided. "I see. Well, it's nice to meet you, Merlin. I'm Morgana, but I'm sure you knew that. I'm sure you also know that I'm the king's ward."

          Merlin nodded courteously. "Yes, I have heard of you. It's nice to meet you, too. I'd watched the Alpha Duel. I must admit, it wasn't at all what I had heard of. I've only read poems and romantic tales about Alpha Duels. It was nothing like the things I had read about—wasn't as suave and debonair."

          Leon bobbed his head in solemn agreement. Morgana let out a small, tinkling laugh.

          "You're so right about that," she said. "But you have to admit it is _a little_ romantic." Morgana shot Leon a quick, soft glance. Leon looked almost embarrassed.

          "In a way, I suppose it is," Merlin said. "Like the token on his arm, for example." Merlin pointed to it. "He's still wearing it."

          "Oh," Leon said, as if surprised. "I am, aren't I?"

          "You always were the romantic fool," Morgana said. Leon's gaze turned soft, eyes glistening with an unmistakable emotion.

          Almost at once, Merlin presently recognized the sensation he felt in the air around him. He looked from one to the other. "You're mates?"

          "Not quite," Morgana answered curtly. Her expression hardened. "Leon is my Chosen mate. Since he won the Alpha Duel, he has the right to court me."

          Merlin wrinkled his brow. "But your scent—"

          "It's because Leon's been spending a lot of time in here with me," she explained. "Our scents are gently caressing, like shy adolescents, but they haven't merged together like two people on their wedding night. It isn't like when a pair _clicks_. That isn't done until the heat and during the time when the alpha's knot is inside the omega. Right now, it's…" She shrugged her shoulders, as if not sure how to explain.

          "It's a courting stage," Leon said helpfully. "Like an engagement of sorts, but without rings."

          "Although, when courting an Omega, jewelry is a must." She gave Leon a pointed look.

          Leon bowed his head as if chastised. "I already gave her an amber necklace, and a bouquet of red and pink roses. I plan on giving her more."

          "How long is the engagement? Er, courting?" Merlin asked.

          "Depends on the couple," Morgana said. "And when the omega goes into their next heat."

          "If they allow themselves to go into heat," Leon added.

          "Yes," Morgana said. She looked at Leon as if she were about to say something, but then sighed and brought her attention back to Merlin. "Anyway, it was very kind of you to bring me my elixir. I will drink it very soon."

          "Are you all right, then?" Merlin asked. He ventured to take a few more steps forward, deeming it safe. If Morgana was about to throw things at his head, she would have done it long ago.

          "I'm all right. For now," she said. "I'm still getting used to having my magic back… anyway, that's a private matter—" She suddenly stared at him, eyes piercing to the very core of him. He felt an icy chill run down his spine. "Oh, you—you're suffering," she said. Her eyes seemed to burn a fiery trail straight into him, as if she could see right into his soul. "You poor thing…"

          He shivered violently. "I'm fine." He wasn't sure why, but he felt very uncomfortable with the way she ogled him. Her eyes were an icy blue—nearly white, and flecks of gold sparked around them. He saw her magic dance wildly where the dark pupils should be.

          "It's you, isn't it?" she said, eyes flashing. "It is—it truly is you!" She sat up straighter. "I _knew_ you looked familiar! I saw you in a dream…"

          Merlin blinked, not sure what to say to that. "Um, you did?"

          "Are you sure, love?" Leon said. He held Morgana's hand in both of his.

          "Yes," she hissed. She tilted her chin up and spoke to a point right above Merlin's head, gaze unfocused. "Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, ears… there is no doubt about it." Her eyes homed in on Merlin's again. "It is _you_! I'm sure of it!"

          "You're becoming hysterical, love," Leon said gently, petting her. "You should take the potion and rest."

          "I am _not_ hysterical!" Morgana nearly screamed. "The dream," she sounded more otherworldly than before, "it's in bits and pieces. There's no true form yet, and still—I see faces. I recognize them. Arthur's face is nearly permanent. Then I see Uther, and some of the knights. There are bodies lying everywhere – dead! The castle is burning, in ruins, and the sky is an ominous black with glowing silver clouds. It's raining, but the rain isn't normal—it's like ice, yet not ice, and the trees and plants are melting in a molten blaze…" She gasped, pausing as if some other vision suddenly appeared before her. Whether it was the same kind of vision or something else entire wasn't sure. She pursed her lips tightly, unable to voice the images flashing across her inward eyesight.

          "Please, love," Leon said, voice cracking. "You need to rest. You mustn't let these nightmares bother you. Here, take the potion Gaius gave you."

          Suddenly, Morgana leaped frantically from her bed and took hold of Merlin's shoulders. "You must find him!" she shrieked. Her eyes smoldered a bright orange-yellow, boring with incredible energy through his. He could feel the strength of her power. Their magic was similar, yet different. Where her power edged more toward the ethereal and mysterious, his power was strong with the elements that made up the world. He tried his hardest to suppress his own powers so as not to give himself away, yet. There was no telling how she, or Leon, would react if they knew.

          "W-who?" Merlin stammered. His eyes grew as he stared into her maddened face. She shook Merlin violently, as if she tried to make him snap out of something. As if he was the one that acted insane. Merlin's magic almost reacted to the assault, but he coaxed it back.

          "Your _Soulmate_ ," Morgana cried. "The other side to your coin! You must find him!" She shook him madly, resulting in Merlin having to place his hands onto her forearms to try stopping her, or at least make her slow up. He felt like a raggedy poppet about to burst at the seams.

          "Morgana, please!" Leon begged."Don't get so excited. Please come back to bed."

          "You must, Merlin!" she whimpered. She lay her head down onto Merlin's shoulder, and Merlin automatically put his arms around her in a soothing gesture. Her grip around him tightened. "You must… if you do not, Camelot will fall. The kingdom will be in ruins!" Her voice cracked at the end, and then gentled as she murmured, "All of it, destroyed… billowing black clouds, ashes, embers on the wind…"

          Merlin patted her back, unsure of how to proceed. He had never had a princess weep on his shoulder before (not to mention one that was a Seeress that sprouted prophetic visions), but he had a sense that she needed some comfort. He dithered on the thought of telling her about his magic. If there was one thing that could make Morgana feel a little better, it was to let her know that she wasn't the only unfettered magic user in Camelot. But when Leon walked up to them, Merlin clammed up—about his magic, at least.

          "I will… try my best, my lady," Merlin said. "To find my Soulmate, I mean. It's not like it'll never happen. I mean… I know who it is."

          Morgana stared blankly, as if she still saw her vision. "You've scented him?"

          "Yeah, I think I have," Merlin said. His face bloomed hot. "I have dreams… I wake up soaked and aching for him. But everytime I wake up, I don't remember anything, except how hot and needy I'd been."

          Morgana placed a thin hand onto his cheek. It was warm and dry, and it did nothing to quench his thirst. "You will remember," she said. "I am sure of it."

          Merlin could only stare, not sure if she was sympathetic or having another waking dream.

          Leon finally got Morgana to cooperate with him. She lay back down and he fluffed up her pillow behind her head, fixed her blankets around her. Morgana gasped as if trying to catch her breath. When she realized what Leon had done for her, she nestled down into her bedding and let out a tired sigh. It didn't look like it yet, but Merlin could imagine that she lay in a traditional Omega nest. She definitely looked as if she were nestled in one.

          "You should go now," Leon said, voice even. "It was kind of you to bring Morgana her elixir. Give Gaius my thanks."

          "I—I will," Merlin said. He was still a little shaky from the ordeal, but otherwise unscathed. "If there's anything else I can do—"

          "I'll let you know," Leon said dismissively.

          Merlin began to turn around and make his way to the door when Morgana spoke again: "Merlin… you will suffer even greater than you are now if you do not find him."

          A full-body shiver coursed through him, as though he had been struck by a lightning bolt. The door shut softly behind him as he left, but his heart thudded loudly in his ears.

.-.

          Princess Mithian and her entourage arrived as Arthur descended the courtyard stairs. He'd barely made it on time. If only his manservant hadn't been so slow in dressing him properly this wouldn't have happened.

          But he couldn't dwell on that now. He had his princely duties to perform, and one of them included being regal and playing host to a princess who was about to become an ally of Camelot.

          Once Princess Mithian was helped off her white mare, she stepped up to Arthur and genuflected respectfully. Arthur bowed back in return, then took her hand and brought it up to kiss. She was lovelier than he'd thought, but he couldn't let that influence his decision. As pretty as she was, and as enticing as her smell was, it wasn't enough to make him forget his Soulmate.

          "You're most welcome, Princess Mithian," Arthur said.

          "Thank you, Sire," she said. "It's a pleasure to be here."

          He held out his elbow for her to take and she gripped it lightly. He ushered them into the castle as the stable hands took care of her horse. Mithian's beta handmaidens and gelding servants took care of her overnight bags and belongings. A Camelot servant came forward to show them where Mithian was to stay, and they hurried off ahead of the royal persons.

          Arthur and Mithian took their time walking up the stairs and slowly made their way to the throne room where King Uther waited for them. It'd been Uther's idea that Arthur greeted Mithian alone at the courtyard, and Arthur had a pretty good idea it was because of Uther's hopes for them to become mates. Sometimes when an alpha and omega's eyes locked, they'd know in that instance that they were right for each other. It was what had happened to Lancelot and Gwen. Unfortunately for Uther, it didn't happen between Arthur and Mithian. Arthur had known, deep in his bones, that nothing would have happened between them, and he was pleased to note that he was correct.

          The moment they were alone in the corridor, about halfway to their destination, Mithian halted them. She turned to face Arthur and he stared at her, perplexed as to why she stopped. But he could tell from the look on her face that she had something on her mind. Her lips thinned and her brows knitted together as she stared, as if afraid of what she was about to say. Or perhaps not afraid, but apprehensive. As things normally went, an Omega didn't question anything, or speak their mind blatantly. It wasn't exactly what Arthur hoped for in his Omega. He didn't care much for the really subservient ones, because that was boring. He was delighted to see that Mithian was not one of those kind.

          "Is there something amiss, Princess Mithian?" he asked. He knew she wouldn't really say anything first, unless he said something. He wanted to hear her speak her mind.

          She gave him a tight smile. "Please, call me Mithian. We don't need to be so formal when we're alone."

          He nodded and returned her smile. "You're right. And you may call me Arthur. I guess we should get used to it, if things work out between us."

          Here, her lips thinned again and her eyes flashed with hardiness. "That's what I wish to talk to you about, Arthur. I know that—" She took a deep, determined breath. "I can already tell that we don't _click_."

          Arthur blinked in astonishment, but quickly returned to his princely poise. "You can?" he murmured. He cleared his throat and spoke more resolutely. "I mean—how can you? We haven't even—"

          "Your scent," she stated matter-of-factly. "There's a specific odor secreting rather heavily from you. It's warning me."

          "Warning you of what?"

          Mithian smiled and placed a hand gently on his chest. "That you already have your Intended. You scented them, and there is no one else you'd want to be intimate with." Her smile widened. "Message received, Arthur; loud and clear."

          Hot blood imbued his face, unbidden. "I hope that I haven't upset you in any way—"

          "Not at all, dear Arthur," Mithian said. "In fact, it's a relief! I merely came here out of obligation. I didn't wish to insult the king by refusing his kind offer to stay. I know that he'd hoped to get something out of my visit – that he hoped that we'd Recognize and tie. I was on tenterhooks that it would not happen. For, you see, I do not have any romantic inclinations toward the masculine alphas."

          Arthur's eyebrows rose considerably as he stared at her in some shock. "You're—uh, what are they called?"

          Mithian tittered lightly. "There are only a handful of words that describe what I am. One of them is _rubster_. Only royalty use that word. And the other word to use is _sappho_. That came from the Greeks. But I believe the term being used nowadays is _lesbian_."

          "Ah," Arthur said, trying to act blasé about it all. "Of course. So, what does that mean for you?"

          "It simply means, my dear Arthur, that I'm not keen on bedding you. It also means that my Intended is most likely a female alpha."

          Arthur's brows pinched together. "But… aren't they rare?"

          Mithian smiled toothily. "They're not too rare, if one knows where to look."

          "I take it you have an idea where this so-called female alpha is?"

          "I may," Mithian said mysteriously. "But you needn't worry about that, Arthur. We can go about our usual manner, have a feast and maybe a jaunt afterwards. Just enough to please the king. Then, if you wish, we could put on a show of trying to tie."

          "But we really won't," Arthur said, easily catching on.

          "Indeed," she said. They slowly made their way toward the throne room again, her arm linked in his. "So, what shall we do after the feast? What sort of traditions do you have here?"

          "Well, there's a few. Um. For the alphas, we like to hunt and do sports. But I'm sure that's not—"

          "I'd love to."

          Arthur stopped, perplexed. "You… would?"

          "Sure," Mithian said. She smiled sweetly. "I like hunting, as a matter of fact."

          "You… do?" Arthur wasn't sure how to respond. "That's, well…"

          "It's surprising, I know," she said. "Not many Omegas care to hunt. That's something only alphas enjoy, yes?"

          Arthur shrugged. "Well—" He didn't know how to discourage her from wanting to participate.

          "It's settled," Mithian said, earnest. "Tomorrow we'll go hunting. If that's all right with you, my lord." She smiled cheekily.

          Arthur couldn't think of any reason not to, so he agreed. He could always invite a few other alphas along. Gwaine was still recovering, so he was off the list. Leon was more invested in how Morgana was doing, so he would probably stay behind. When Arthur and Mithian finally got to the throne room's double doors, he had chosen Percival, Elyan, and Hector to join them on the hunt. Unless they had other more pressing matters, they'd have no choice but to go. It was their duty to accompany their prince when ordered.

          Uther greeted Mithian accordingly. He then asked how her father was and how their kingdom fared. She responded back that all was well. As they chatted, Arthur tried his best to seem cordial but not overly animated. He knew they—he and Mithian—had a part to play in front of the king. Most times, it wasn't very hard to hide things from Uther, and sometimes that posed a problem, but at the moment Arthur was glad for it.

          Arthur and Mithian shared a knowing glance. He hoped that Mithian won't get too disgraced from the ordeal. Like many royal Omegas, they were expected to marry well, if they could. Barring that, they were supposed to tie with a pureblooded Alpha.

          "I hope your stay here will be a pleasant one," Uther said.

          "I believe it shall, your Highness," Mithian said. "Prince Arthur and I had already made plans for our first outing."

          "I see," Uther said. He graced Arthur with a rare smile. "That's good to hear, Princess. Well, the feast will begin in about an hour. You may rest in your guest chamber until then, if you like. Do not hesitate to let someone know if you want anything."

          "Thank you, my lord," she said, curtsying. "I will go rest, then."

          Arthur escorted Mithian to her guest chambers. On the way there, they saw Princess Elena coming toward them. Arthur smiled, about to give her a joyful reception, but then saw the pinched look on her face.

          "Princess Elena," he greeted formally. The three nobles stopped in the middle of the hall.

          "Arthur," Elena said. She then made a clumsy curtsy to him and then nodded at Mithian. "And Princess Mithian. Hello."

          "Whatever is the matter, dear?" Mithian asked. She stepped close and lay a gentle hand on Elena's shoulder. Mithian and Elena's kingdoms were already allies, so they knew each other well enough. They'd had plenty of feasts together and had a peace treaty signed between them.

          "I have one of those bothersome headaches. My handmaiden thinks it's the springtime miasma. I am not so sure, though."

          "You wish to see Gaius?" Arthur asked.

          "Yes," Elena said. "I was just on my way there now."

          "Good," he said. "We don't wish to hinder you. We'll let you be on your way."

          "Thank you, Sire," Elena said. She gave them a grateful, tight smile. "I hope you don't mind that I've been staying for a while longer. I don't wish to be a bother."

          "You may stay as long as you like, Princess," Arthur said. "You're my friend, after all. And surely you can't travel when you're unwell. Whenever you're feeling better, and whenever you choose, you let me know when you're leaving and I'll throw you a farewell feast."

          "Thank you, Arthur, but you needn't go through all the trouble. Just a simple good-by gathering in the courtyard would be fine."

          "Do you want some company to the infirmary?" Mithian asked.

          "No, that's all right," Elena said. "I'm sure that Gaius will fix me up right as rain."

          "Okay," Mithian said. "But if there's anything troubling you, you may come see me in my quarters." She leaned in and kissed Elena's cheek. "You'll always be welcome."

          "Thank you, Mithian," Elena said. She beamed with happiness about the invite, but her eyes were still filled with intense pain. "By your leave." She gave Mithian a small curtsy, gave Arthur a sudden spur-of-the-moment hug, and quickly dashed toward the infirmary.

          "I hope she'll be all right," Mithian said, watching Elena leave. "A headache is never fun when one does not have a nest to snuggle in. I always find that making a good, soft omega nest for one's self helps with the anxieties and pains of being an unmated Omega."

          "I thought omegas only made nests when they're about to go into heat, or when they're gravid."

          "There are plenty of reasons why an omega would make a nest," Mithian said. "I admit it is unconventional to have one before finding a mate, but they can come in handy for many things."

          "Maybe I should let Elena know that she can go right ahead and make a nest in her guest room."

          Mithian shook her head. "It wouldn't be right. She's only a guest here in Camelot. She must make her nest in her kingdom, in her own bedchamber. Otherwise, it wouldn't do her justice. She'd feel… overwrought. It would do her health no good."

          Wisely deciding not to comment more on the subject, Arthur brought Mithian to her guest chambers. Mithian stayed inside the partially-opened door, facing Arthur. "I thank you, Arthur, for the escort. Now, I shall get some rest after my long journey."

          "Of course, Princess," Arthur said. "I'll have one of the servants let you know when the evening's feast is ready. I don't think you'd want to miss that."

          "Indeed!" Mithian smiled. "Well, I will see you later, then, Arthur."

          "Rest well," Arthur said. Mithian nodded and then shut the door softly.

          Even though he had an urgency to find his Soulmate, Arthur was still a bit worried about Elena. He decided to make his way toward the infirmary to see if she got any treatment. He knew that Gaius was capable, but things had been topsy-turvy lately.

          As he was just on his way to the infirmary, he stopped short when he noticed Morgana walking swiftly from the opposite direction. Her movements were almost otherworldly. Her skin was such a light shade of pale she looked as if a good hard breeze would knock her over. Her powder-blue nightgown fluttered behind her, giving the look of butterfly wings.

          The next thing he noticed was the smell that radiated off her. Unable to control it, he narrowed his eyes and growled deep in his throat.

          "Before you go absolutely insane and try attacking me," she said, "I must tell you that all I did was hug him. The poor lamb is completely frustrated."

          "HE'S frustrated?" Arthur snarled. "How do you think _I_ feel?"

          "He wasn't doing any harm," Morgana said. She narrowed her eyes right back at him. "He was only delivering medicine to me, for which you can see has helped me immensely. Our meeting wasn't intentional."

          "If it wasn't intentional, then why were you hugging him?" Arthur demanded.

          "I was only showing him some empathy, Omega to Omega."

          Arthur snorted. "Since when do you have empathy?"

          "I have empathy! I also have _sympathy_ , for you, my dear brother."

          "Don't bother," Arthur said snidely. "I don't need it, especially from you." He turned to continue his way to the infirmary.

          "Don't you want to know what _Merlin_ said to me?"

          Arthur paused mid-step and turned his body halfway. He wasn't sure if he wanted to turn completely around and return to Morgana's side, or ignore her and be on his way. Her scent, mingled with his Soulmate's scent, caused a rise in his temper. In fact, he was so irritated he failed to notice the slight whiff of his Soulmate in the air.

          "Why, exactly, do I want to know?" Arthur said. "You'd probably lie or fabricate all of it anyway."

          "Not about this," she said, almost grinning. She definitely had his attention, but he tried to look disinterested.

          He sighed deeply. "All right, fine. What did he say?"

          Morgana's smile was frighteningly hollow. "He told me that he dreams about you. When he wakes from it, he's achingly hard and soaked with slick."

          Arthur's cock took full interest. He took a deep breath to try to keep control of his heart rate.

          Morgana noticed his reaction and decided to up the ante. "Merlin has scented you. Did you know that? He's on the look-out for you, but he's also apprehensive. Although, from the looks of him, I'd say he's just your type," she added mischieviously. "Dark hair, stormy-blue eyes, lanky, sharp cheekbones… I'd say he's quite fetching."

          Arthur half-groaned, half-growled. "You're a torturous harpy, did you know that?"

          Morgana laughed. "What're sisters for?"

          "How about cannon fodder?" he growled.

          She smacked him on the shoulder. "Okay, seriously, I have to see Gaius—"

          "I was on my way there too, to check on Elena," Arthur said. "She said her head hurt."

          "Poor dear! Well, I'm sure she'll be in good hands if she went to see Gaius. If you like, I could have a word with her while I'm there. It's probably best you don't be there anyway."

          "And why's that?" Arthur demanded.

          "Because Gwaine is still there recuperating. What if seeing him triggers your alpha instincts again? We wouldn't want anything heinous happening, now would we?"

          Arthur sighed. He wouldn't want to unnecessarily upset Gaius by accidentally breaking something in the infirmary. "Suppose not. I guess I really wouldn't know what to say to her anyway."

          "Besides that, you've got a feast to prepare for. Have to look good for Princess Mithian." She winked impishly.

          "Shut up, Morgana. You know Mithian and I will never tie, no matter how badly Father wants it to happen."

          "That's exactly what I wanted to hear," she said mysteriously. Arthur stared at her, a little disorientated by her behavior. In the end, he shrugged her off. He never could understand the mind of a magic user, no matter what their gender. He hoped they weren't all scatterbrained like her.

.-.

          "Merlin?" Gaius said, staring peculiarly at his nephew. "What's wrong?"

          Merlin snapped out of his daze and stared at Gaius. "What do you mean?" he asked absentmindedly.

          "You've not been crushing that wormroot like I'd asked you to," Gaius said. He nodded his head at the pestle and mortar in Merlin's hands. "You've just been standing there with a hazy, dumbfounded look in your eyes. Have you caught some sort of ague after all?"

          "Oh, uh, no," Merlin said quickly. "I'm fine." He immediately returned to grinding the root up. It was an ingredient that was to be used in Gwaine's medicine. His wound still bothered him, but at least he wasn't puking anymore. Gaius had said that in a few weeks Gwaine's stitches should be ready to remove.

          "You don't look fine to me," Gaius said. "Tell me what's wrong."

          Merlin debated on whether he should speak, but then decided he might as well. Gaius would probably make him clean the leech tank again if he didn't. He sighed, shoulders sagging. "Well… I thought I'd scented him."

          Gaius's eyebrows leaped. "Prince Arthur?"

          Merlin pursed his lips. Slowly, he nodded. "I think so. Well, it was the same scent I'd smelled when I first noticed it in the woods on my way here." Merlin shook his head and sighed deeply again. "It's okay, though. It hasn't gotten any stronger. Maybe it's my imagination. I mean, he's the prince, right? His scent's bound to be everywhere in the castle. I think I'm just jumpy."

          The infirmary door flew open and Merlin jumped. Princess Elena rushed forward, eyes strained. "Gaius! Oh, I'm so glad you're here. I need—" She broke off suddenly and stared at Merlin. "Oh. Hello. I didn't think anyone else would be here."

          "Hello," Merlin said politely. "I'm Merlin, Gaius's assistant and nephew."

          "Oh!" Elena said. "Yes, nice to meet you." Her nostrils flared and her eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh! You're a fellow Omega!"

          "Uh, yeah," Merlin said. "I am."

          "I don't wish to be rude," Elena said swiftly. "Especially to another Omega, but I must address my problem to Gaius first, and then we could get acquainted. Okay?"

          Merlin blinked. He'd never thought a royal person would want to spend any sort of quality time with him, even if he were an Omega. "Oh… sure, my lady."

          Elena smiled at him in response, but then in the next moment she brought her attention to Gaius. "Please, you must help me ease my aching head. It is killing me! I have no idea why I'm feeling this way. I've never had a headache like this before, and it's driving me absolutely mad!"

          "Okay, my lady," Gaius said in a soothing voice. "Take a deep breath now. Everything will be fine. I'll go fetch my headache elixirs. So have a seat and try to relax."

          Just as she sat and took a few deep breaths, hand on her heart and eyes shut, Gwaine wandered in from the room in the back. Normally, Gwaine would have slept in the usual spot near where Gaius's worktable was, but the fumes from the other potions got to him, so he had to change rooms. It was a smaller sleeping chamber, but Gwaine didn't mind. As long as he didn't bring up his food anymore.

          "Gaius, is it ready yet?" Gwaine bemoaned. "I've got the worst headache now and I don't—"

          Gwaine gasped as a strange, alluring scent hit him square in the face.

          Elena gasped at almost the same time. She turned her head and stared. Their eyes met.

          The air grew humid and thick as the long-drawn-out silence filled the room. Gwaine and Elena's jaws were unhinged and their eyes were locked, barely blinking. Merlin slowly moved next to Gwaine and waved a hand in front of his face. After a moment, Gwaine snapped out of it.

          "Oh," he said, eyes still fixed on Elena's. "Erm… hello there."

          "Hello," Elena replied breathily. She stood, and with only a few short strides she was in front of Gwaine. "It's _very_ nice to meet you."

          "It's very nice to meet you, too," Gwaine said. The look in his eyes were totally different from the way he'd looked at Merlin. Instead of lust-filled or yearning with desire, they were focused and piercing. Elena's eyes looked nearly the same. It was as if they were reading each other's souls. It made Merlin wonder if all meetings between Omegas and Alphas that clicked were like that, or if it was different for everyone.

          "I'm Princess Elena," she said, voice strained and distant.

          "Sir Gwaine," Gwaine responded mechanically. His eyes never left hers.

          She stepped closer to Gwaine, nostrils quivering and cheeks rosy. "Why do you smell like that?"

          "Like what?" he asked, distracted. His own nose twitched madly.

          "Like a delicious cinnamon apple pie," Elena said. "Hot and bubbling, straight from the oven."

          Gwaine's mouth twitched as he fought off a smile. "As long as you tell me why you smell like a hot buttered crumpet that was baked to flaky perfection."

          Elena beamed. "Maybe we've been visiting the kitchen too often," she teased.

          "Or maybe it isn't the kitchen that we should be visiting," Gwaine suggested.

          "I concur," Elena said, a little too quickly. She swayed even closer to him, face almost planted into his chest, when Gaius forced some space between them.

          "I apologize, my lady," Gaius said when she shot him a hurt look. "But you must go through the proper procedures before you get too attached to Sir Gwaine."

          Elena stepped back, straightened up. Her face morphed into a stately mask. "He's right," she said. "My father would pop a blood vessel if he heard that I tied myself to a knight instead of a royal person, as we'd planned. I should contact him first before anything more is decided."

         Gwaine's face distorted into something resembling agony. He seemed to deflate, eyes distant and sad. "I understand," he grumbled. "Even if I don't like it."

          "We'd have to wait until my next heat anyway," Elena said. "So let's not rush it. Let's go through the proper stages first."

          Gwaine's eyes softened. "If that is what my lady wishes." He gently took her hand and brought it up to his lips. Even the lightest touch of his lips to the back of her hand gave them both uncontrollable shivers.

          "And you should wait until you're fully healed," Gaius reminded him. "Going into a rut now would only aggravate your wound, and it might pop your stitches out too soon. Best you get more rest."

          When Gwaine still had misery written across his features, Elena said, "We must wait to see what my father says, but don't worry, he's a sensible man. I'm sure he won't object."

          "If you say so, Princess," Gwaine said.

          Elena smiled. "You may call me Elena, Sir Knight."

          "And you may call me Gwaine, my la—Elena."

          After a silent moment, as Gwaine and Elena stood there staring at each other, Gaius said, "Okay, let's get ready for the feast now. Merlin, I'm sure you're in need of a bath, so I'll ask a servant to bring us up a large tub and have it filled with hot water."

          Merlin practically drooled at the thought of immersing himself in a tub of water. Omegas, particularly male omegas, adored bathing. It wasn't just to take away the slick that had accumulated during heats and other embarrassing moments, but because male omegas had more parts to keep clean. Both sexual organs excreted body fluids of differing kinds, and so everything had to be washed and cared for.

          "Thank you, Gaius!" Merlin beamed happily.

          "I knew that would interest you," Gaius said. He then called for a servant and gave him the order.

.-.

          As promised, Arthur woke Mithian in time for the feast. He waited patiently in the antechamber while she made herself presentable. A maidservant had already prepared a wash tub for her and clean clothes before he'd entered. Mithian was aided with everything by her maid, and within fifteen minutes she was ready. She met Arthur in the antechamber. He ushered her out of the room and they made their way toward the great hall, arm in arm.

          "You're my escort this evening, I see," she said cheekily.

          "I am," Arthur said. "Are you ready to grace the court with your fair looks and fine figure?"

          Mithian giggled. "Indeed, I'm ready to shock and awe them. And how about you, my handsome escort? Are you ready to make the entire kingdom fall in love with you? You certainly have the face for it."

          "You flatter me, Princess," Arthur said. He fought off a blush lest the guards and servants milling about got the wrong impression. "My face isn't handsome enough to tempt everyone in my kingdom. If it were, I'd have many more suitors than I'd care for."

          "I didn't think you were this humble," Mithian said. "I'm all astounded!"

          "Your teasing will not fluster me, no matter how hard you try."

          "Am I that transparent?" she said. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you seemed a little edgy so I was trying to take your mind off things. Are you sensing your Intended, is that the reason?"

          "Almost every time I walk down these corridors," Arthur admitted. There was a hint of sadness added to his tone. "My blood boils with the surge of adrenaline, and my heart races to the point of explosion. My mind is screaming at me to go seek and claim him, but I know my place; I must perform my royal duties, or I risk disappointing my father."

          "You said _him_ ," Mithian said, voice quickened with interest. "Your Intended is a man?"

          Arthur swallowed with difficulty in a dry throat. Presently, he took a deep breath, said, "He is."

          "No doubt your Intended is a pureblooded Omega," Mithian said. Her tone had the implications of teasing, but she kept most at bay.

          "There is no other kind for me," Arthur said. "Of that you can be sure. There is no way my Intended is anything but pure."

          "They say," Mithian ventured, almost mischieviously, "that most male Omegas have magic, that they practice works of the enigmatic occult. They force nature to do their bidding and cause powerful warlords and kings alike to bow before them."

          "That's merely rumors," Arthur said at once. "Mer—Merlin wouldn't do anything of the sort," he said, stumbling over the name, but then plunged ahead: "If he's the one that is meant for me, then he's my perfect match. He would obey me as he's supposed to, and there will be no question of who was head of the household." Arthur stared at Mithian, frowning. "Why are you smirking? What I said was true. Besides, there's a chance that he's one of those male Omegas that doesn't have magic. You know what _they_ are like."

          "You mean Bisexual?" Mithian said. She nodded. "There's that, yes, but they're quite rare. Or so I've heard. But upon meeting him, it would be rude to ask: 'Excuse me but do you, by any chance, have a cunt?' I would get all up in arms if I were him."

          "I am not going to ask him such a question," Arthur spoke bitterly. "Don't even think that! Things will be made much clearer once my Intended goes into heat. Then we'll just let nature take over."

          "Well," Mithian said after a moment of silence, "if it turns out that he does have magic, what will you do? Will you have him collared, as per Camelot rules? Or would you shelter him from your father?" Before Arthur could respond, she continued with: "If he is your One True Mate, then you'll have the need to protect and shield him. You'll want to covert him and keep him from harm. It's what any honorable, True Alpha would do for their Omega."

          Arthur nibbled his bottom lip in thought. He hadn't really considered that his father would interfere in his mating rights in such a way. He'd imagined that Uther wouldn't be pleased that his own son would go against his word and bond with Merlin anyway. But the thought of what Uther would do if Merlin were a magical Omega… it turned his stomach.

          When they finally reached the doors to the great hall, where the feast was held, Arthur had worked himself up in such a state that he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to keep anything down. Even if the food tempted him, he still couldn't even look at it without feeling nauseous.

          When the feast began, and the king made his usual toast and speech, Arthur immediately went for the wine, hoping it would calm his nerves.

          "You two seemed to be getting along swimmingly," Uther said. "Still planning on having your outing?"

          "Yeah," Arthur said. He tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. "We're going hunting."

          "Hunting?" Uther nearly gasped. His face then took on a more gleeful look. "That's splendid, Arthur. Are you two going alone?"

          "I'll be taking a few knights with me," Arthur said.

          "Ah," Uther said, a little downhearted. "Still, it's a good sign. I have high hopes for you two, Arthur. Don't let me down."

          Arthur side-eyed his father for a moment. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Yes, Sire."

          Throughout dinner, Uther kept giving his son encouraging looks. Arthur was not a mind-reader, no matter what his father thought, so he had no clue as to what Uther had been implying. When Arthur failed to read Uther's gestures for the tenth time, Uther spoke to Mithian in odd sentences. At least to Arthur they were odd. Uther also inquired certain information from her, and Mithian politely answered, even if she were as lost by all this as Arthur was.

          But when Uther talked about bloodlines and genetics, Arthur caught on. He stared at Uther in wonderment, not sure if he should be offended by his father's interference. Mithian and Arthur still planned to pretend, but they'd hoped they wouldn't get any sort of encouragement from Uther to try for real.

          "I hear that your mother's bloodline goes back to the time when the pyramids were first built," Uther said.

          Mithian slowly laid her fork down onto her plate so it didn't hover in the air during their conversation. "Well, your Highness, it isn't a fact, but that's what my parents had said."

          "That's remarkable," Uther said. The smile he shot her could almost be considered warm. Arthur knew better.

          "Records of such bloodlines cannot be taken as fact, though, Sire," Mithian said. "The Great Library and its sister library had burnt down, and most of the scrolls were lost. Some were the written ancestries since Sneferu's time. So it cannot be taken as fact that I'm related to any of them. It's only speculation."

          "I'm sure, though," Uther continued, voice urgent, "that there must be some truth to what your family has stated. Otherwise, why would they bring it up in the first place?"

          "It is possible, my lord, that I'm related to one of the ancient rulers, but I doubt my bloodline goes as far back as the beginning of the pyramids. If I had a guess, I would say that the furthest back my ancestory went would be during the times of Ramesses the Great, or even sooner."

          Understanding what was going on, Arthur tried to steer the conversation to safer waters.

          "Father, have you had any more reports about Cenred's movements? Last I heard he was getting particularly close to our borders."

          If Uther noticed what his son was doing, he didn't express it. He didn't even look at Arthur when he spoke: "I heard that he hasn't done much, so I wouldn't worry. He's probably too afraid to do anything that would provoke us to war. Cenred knows we have five times the manpower he does. He'd be committing suicide if he attacked us now."

          "You're probably right," Arthur said.

          The conversation waned on that subject, and before long the meal was over and dessert was served. Again, Uther tried to bring their talk back to bloodlines and traditions. Mithian must have caught on to what Uther was doing, because she also tried to steer the conversation toward other issues.

          Once the evening ended, and everyone was dismissed, Arthur escorted Mithian back to her guest room. When Uther had declared that he wished to retire for the evening, his face glowed with worrisome triumph.

          "I think we're playing our part too well," Mithian said once they reached her door. "We'll have to ease off, lest your father starts sending out wedding invitations."

          Arthur shivered. "It's a frightening thought. Perhaps we shouldn't go on our hunt after all."

          "No, let's keep our appointment. It isn't like it'll lead to anything. Besides, it might make more waves if we cancel. Then, next day, we'll do our pretend tying, and the day after that we'll go to the king and tell him that it didn't work."

          "Easy as that, huh?" Arthur said. He knew from experience that it was never as easy as that when it came to his father.

          "Easy as that," Mithian said. "And if he tries to push me to keep trying, I'll have to remind him of our kingdoms' pact. If he still persists, I'll tell him the truth."

          "About you being a lesbian?"

          "Yes," Mithian said, smiling. "That."

          "But wouldn't that confuse him? If you tell him that you're not attracted to male alphas right after we told him we tried—"

          "Let's not worry about it until we've crossed that bridge." When Arthur still looked worried, she patted his cheek gently. "Don't fret, dear Arthur. One day we'll look back at this and laugh."

          "If you say so," he sighed.

          She smiled. "Well, goodnight, then. Must rest up for our hunt tomorrow. By the by, what time does it start?"

          "I was thinking we could do an afternoon hunt," Arthur said. "That way the knights that I'm inviting along will be free and not suddenly busy doing other things."

          "How diabolical of you, my lord!"

          They parted well enough, but Arthur still had an ominous sensation churning in his gut. As he made his way to his chambers, he recalled the look his father had worn as he left the dining hall.

          No matter what Uther had up his sleeve, Arthur was not going to buckle under. Not this time.

TBC


	8. Omnipotent Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I wasn't going to post this today, but since many of you are impatient (you're obviously not Slytherins, then), then I'll post this today. Just so you know, I am now caught up with myself. Which means I don't have much of chapter 9 done right now. I have no clue as to when it will be completed, but I'm hoping for lots of writing time this weekend.  
> I have started a new job this week, and if all goes well they will hire me on as a full-time employee. I hope this will help my muse and not hinder it. But that's the real world for ya. XD

 

.-.

**Omnipotent Tempest**

.-.

          Bluish-gray moonlight bathed Merlin as he soaked in the steaming warmth of his bathtub. He was exhausted, but it wasn't purely physical—it was stress on the mind. His body ached in a way that he understood, but his mind was in turmoil.

          Before he'd stripped down and plunged himself into the heavenly water, he'd had a short conversation with Princess Elena. It didn't last as long as either liked because she had been completely enchanted with Sir Gwaine, and she wanted to get her father's permission to tie with him as soon as possible.

          Her heat was due in about two weeks. She wanted to be ready, as did Gwaine. If her father approved of the match, they had planned on being cooped up in Gwaine's bedchambers during the time her heat was supposed to start.

          She still looked forward to becoming friends with Merlin, especially after she found out that Arthur was his Soulmate. She had gleefully squealed and hugged him before she blushed with sudden apprehension and released him. Merlin didn't think it mattered whether another Omega got their scent on him. Nor did it matter if a beta did. He only had to be careful around Alphas.

          Moist, steamy air surrounded him in his bath. He tilted his head back, letting the ends of his hair touch his shoulders, as he basked in the warmth. He had already taken care of the parts that needed washing, using the homemade soap that Gaius had. It was the poor man's soap, but it was better than nothing. Thanks to the ancient Greek Omegas, they had soap for the body. Cleaning with oil and a scraper didn't do much for when the heat hit. When soap was discovered for washing clothes, it was soon adapted for skin use.

          Omegas were big on bathing and keeping clean. If they didn't wash often enough, they'd always be swimming in their own slick and sweat, and it wasn't comfortable. It wasn't so much as the stink of unwashed bodies that would have been the problem: It was the rashes. They were very unpleasant. When an Omega from the past had noticed soap being used to wash garments, that Omega had thought: _What about our bodies? Is it safe to use it on myself?_ Thus the first bar of soap had emerged.

          At least that was what the history books had said.

          Merlin was eternally grateful for its discovery, though. If it wasn't for the Omegas of the past, he'd be even more miserable. The first time he'd been in heat—his Nymphing—was not the most pleasant of experiences. He had suffered through it alone in the forest, scared out of his wits. He was too ashamed to even tell his mum about it when it had hit. Thankfully, she'd found him hours later. By then he had already been immersed in his own slick—had created his own quagmire—and was hot and miserable and, yes, developing a rash. Hunith took him home, stuck him into their tub, which had gotten small for Merlin because he'd been growing at an alarming rate, and cared for him in the way any loving mother would. She hadn't been angry with him at all, just worried to death. After, he'd promised never to sneak off into the woods when his heat struck. Since then, he'd always been happy to help make soap. That had been the poor man's soap too, but soap was soap, and it was a big relief to own some.

          He had a hard time getting out of the tub, but he needed sleep and he didn't think falling asleep in the bathwater would be a good idea. He sighed wistfully before he heaved himself out. Water cascaded down his body as he rose, and he very carefully climbed out of the tub. Last thing he needed now was to slip and knock himself out.

          The servants would take care of the tub in the morning, Gaius would make sure of it. Merlin dried off best he could with a towel, which wasn't as extravagant as the towels the nobles used, but it was better than nothing.

          Sleep pulled heavily on his eyelids. He hastened on a pair of undergarments and gave up trying to find his sleep shirt. With a relieved breath, Merlin fell back onto his bed. He shifted, found a comfortable position easily, and sleep quickly enveloped him.

          An unknowable amount of time passed before Merlin was suddenly engulfed in a dream. It started out like any other dream, but this one felt different somehow. Merlin couldn't quite pinpoint exactly why—not yet.

          The setting was the same: a lush, green forest. The weather was the same as well: pleasant and sunny. His pace wasn't hurried as he walked down that well-known path before him. Trees lined the path, as usual, and soon they spread out as the dirt road slowly became covered in matted down grass. The forest grew, became wild and unkempt. The path ahead stayed clear, however. Merlin didn't feel the need to rush.

          Then the types of trees began to change. Before, he'd seen oaks, willows, birch, pine, cedar, and other common trees. Now there were oddities that Merlin didn't recognize, at first. Then he finally noticed some: cherry trees, chokecherry trees, fig trees, orange trees, and apple trees.

          In fact, one specifically large apple tree grew on the top of a wide knoll. The wind pushed at his back, and he suddenly felt the urge to get to that tree.

          Then, the wind carried a familiar voice from behind:

          _Emrys._

          Merlin looked over his shoulder without stopping. It was _him_. He was about ten feet away from Merlin, and gaining.

          Merlin picked up speed, and once he had, his Soulmate did as well. It was similar to the other dreams he'd had. Still, something was different.

          _The chase is on!_ the voice behind him said. Merlin widened his stride. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt charged, as if a thunderstorm began brewing.

          _Oh, don't run away,_ his Soulmate said. _Let me catch you… let me caress you… let me mark you…_

          "Catch me if you can!" Merlin said, shocking even himself by how gleeful he sounded.

          _Challenge accepted!_ his Soulmate cried, equally as cheerful.

          They ran up the knoll with little difficulty. Once they reached the apple tree, they started to run around it, as if they were children playing a game of tag.

          Joyous laughter sounded behind Merlin as he continued to go round and round the tree. Minutes later, he grew dizzy. He slowed down, and so did his Soulmate. His breath came out harsh, but it felt good too. His steps slowed. With one hand on the apple tree, Merlin stopped and bent over, other hand on a knee. He panted, forcing himself to calmness. Eyes closed, he slowly straightened up.

          It was then that he realized that his Soulmate hadn't grabbed him. Merlin was about to make a snide remark about how defeatist an Alpha he was when his Soulmate's voice murmured from behind the apple tree:

          "You are a creature of most exquisite shape and essence. Your skin glows alabaster and porcelain in swirling mixtures. Your soul is iridescent, mesmerizing, and the deep versicoloured blueness of your eyes swallows my mien and spits out a mottled maelstrom."

          "Is that supposed to be poetry?" Merlin asked. He side-eyed the tree, noticed just the back half of his Soulmate stuck out from around it. A shining, golden tuft of hair stuck up from the back of his Soulmate's head.

          His Soulmate— _Prince Arthur,_ his mind screamed _—_ had stopped exactly parallel to him, but faced the opposite direction, and he also had a hand pressed onto the tree's bark. He must have felt, as Merlin felt, that if he took his hand away his dream-self would start running again. The apple tree was their anchor.

          Arthur chuckled. "Is that what it is? It's my heart talking—I think. Or maybe it's my soul."

          "This is a dream," Merlin said.

          "Most likely."

          "Are you really here?" Merlin asked. "Or are you a dream image?"

          "Maybe it's our souls," Arthur said. "We could be visiting each other in dreamland."

          "You might be right. I sense your being, but it's blurry. Almost ethereal in substance. Like we'll disappear the moment an ominous zephyr blows."

          "How poetic," Arthur said. He leaned back a little, and Merlin watched in rapt amusement as Arthur's ghostly ear came into his line of vision. "I'm told you're a fetching man who's lanky and has lovely cheekbones. Is this true?"

          "I don't know about the fetching bit," Merlin said. "But I've been told before that my cheekbones are shaped quite nicely. And I can't help being tall. I'm sure I get it from my absent father, because my mum's shorter than me."

          There was a tranquil pause. Then Merlin felt his Soulmate shift slightly, so he leaned in closer to the tree, as if about to hear some deep, dark secret.

          "You're a True Omega?" Arthur murmured.

          "I am," Merlin said. "You're a True Alpha."

          "Without a doubt. We wouldn't be Soulmates otherwise."

          "Is that an actual fact," Merlin asked, "or is it something that was told to purebloods just to make them feel special?"

          "Soulmates are supposed to be rare," Arthur said. "It is the strength of our genetic makeup crying out, begging to make a child. We're drawn together for a reason. Our bloodlines have something special in them in order for this to happen. We must have such remarkable qualities—unique gifts—that we'd produce strong and unique offspring."

          Merlin lifted his head away from the tree in embarrassment and glanced up. It neared twilight, and the first few stars in the inky-blue sky twinkled brilliantly through the branches. The apples were bigger than Merlin recalled. When they'd first run around the tree the apples were small, green things just barely plumping out. Now, however, they were more swollen and hung low, weighing the boughs down.

          In fact, the boughs drooped more and more, blocking out most of the skylight and stars. Soon there were so many thick, ripe apples it made many of the lower branches bow to the ground.

          Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a faint susurration beside him, and he brought his eyes back to the apple tree. Arthur had moved forward again, and only small strands of yellow peeked out from the tree. For a moment, panic swept over Merlin. He thought Arthur was about to chase him again, but he didn't. Instead, Arthur said: "I have duties to perform as the Prince of Camelot. I must continue with my bloodline so that I have an heir to take the throne should anything happen to me."

          "And you need a strong heir," Merlin said. "One who can take on any task and come out the victor."

          "Precisely."

          "One who will be fair, as well?" Merlin asked. "One who will see everyone as a person with individual thoughts and feelings and needs? One who will rule kindly and justly and will do what's right?"

          "My heir will be trained in the ways of leadership," Arthur said. "You can be sure of that."

          "But will he be fair-minded and just? Will he see a person who isn't full-blooded as someone with rights, and will he fulfill his duty to help those in need?"

          "My heir will be a great ruler. He will follow the law and do as he sees fit."

          "That doesn't really answer my question," Merlin said.

          Arthur didn't say anything more on the subject. Merlin shrugged and said nothing.

          "Your hue," Arthur said a moment later, "flickers with opalescence and limns your physique with multicoloured medleys, tantalizing me with spellbinding spectrums and pearlescent rivulets of nectar pockmarked with luminescent ambrosia."

          Despite the awkwardness he felt from hearing such words, Merlin couldn't help but mutter: "Your vocabulary astounds me. I hope that you don't talk like that when we finally meet, face to face."

          "You mock my soul's lamenting serenade?" Arthur said, tone less musical now and more husky in timbre.

          "If that's how you serenade it's a wonder you don't have a mate yet."

          "I tried," Arthur admitted softly, and it threw Merlin for a loop. "It didn't work."

          Merlin nibbled the corner of his lip for a moment, said: "You tried?"

          "Knot wouldn't tie," Arthur said, voice small.

          "Because of me?"

          Arthur stayed silent for so long Merlin thought he was going to put an end to the subject. But then, quietly, Arthur said: "Your scent… it haunts me. It tortures me wherever I go."

          "I'm sorry."

          "I'm in pain, my dearest Omega. I'm in agonizing pain. Your scent taunts me, tickles my senses, and scorches the inside of my skull."

          "I'm sorry," Merlin repeated.

          "I must find you, or I'll go mad." Arthur's voice shook despite his demeanor.

          "Will you kill this time?"

          There was a short, weighty pause. Arthur sighed. "Honestly, I don't know."

          "You nearly killed Gwaine."

          "I know."

          "Would you actually kill someone—or even maim him horribly—just to get to me?"

          "Your aroma is so enticing that I might not stop myself if anyone were to get in my way. I may have to kill anyone who does."

          "I don't want that on your conscious."

          "I would have hated myself if I had killed Gwaine. He's a good friend, and a great swordsman."

          "He would've died otherwise," Merlin realized.

          "Yes," Arthur sighed. "He would have."

          The last of the golden sunlight slipped over the horizon, as if the sun had waited for this moment to finally set. The stars came out in full-force; they glittered through the tree's latticework of boughs. Moonlight peered out from a cloud and seeped through the cracks in the labyrinthine branches. Merlin felt the minute change in his soul—his dream-self. His senses were on high-alert, and it caused him to take a step back. He tried to peer around the other side of the tree.

          Arthur's strong, white-hot soul—his dream-self—didn't produce anything tangible. It titillated his curiosity, but Arthur's fundamental essence stayed at arm's length. Merlin felt certain things about Arthur—things he'd known about before.

          Arthur was blond and had blue eyes. That was what Arthur's essence told him. Which he'd known already. Arthur was about his height, well-built—mostly in the chest and shoulders, and had a very regal-looking face and majestic nose. What was newly known, thanks to their first conversation via soul, was the fact that Arthur was somewhat conceited and a little supercilious. He could also tell that Arthur cared deeply for his kingdom and wanted to do right by her.

         There were other nagging things about Arthur, but Merlin couldn't pinpoint them. He'd have to wait until the courting stage of their relationship in order to learn more. Same went for Arthur about Merlin. Merlin was sure that Arthur could already tell a few things about his personality. And Merlin was pretty sure their encounter was not serendipitous. It was bound to have happened, sooner rather than later.

          "Well," Merlin finally said, "I hope, then—for my sake—that you don't kill. Injuring them badly I'll understand, but don't kill anyone."

          "Think you can tell me what to do, do you?" Arthur scoffed.

          "I'm your Soulmate," Merlin said. "I'm entitled."

          "The sheer cheek!" Arthur half-growled, half-chuckled. "Let's remember now, my dear Omega, just who the Alpha is."

          "Being Alpha doesn't make you right all the time."

          "I hope you're joking," Arthur said, voice taking on a dangerous pitch.

          "Don't tell me you'd be fine with killing someone."

          "It all depends on the circumstances," Arthur rumbled. "If someone tried to take you as their own—"

          "You'd kill them?" Merlin asked, tone nearly pleading. "You seriously would?"

          "No one touches what's mine," Arthur growled.

          "I'm not yours," Merlin reminded him. "Not yet."

          "You're being impertinent!"

          "Am I?" Merlin said. He breathed out a laugh. "Oh, guess I am."

          "Do you wish me to chase you again?"

          "Do you dare?"

          Arthur's growl was low and deadly—and it sped up Merlin's heartbeat. "Are you challenging me, my _eternal_ mate?"

          _Emrys_. Merlin shivered violently.

          "Maybe," Merlin said. Then, a sudden awareness struck him: "Why do you remind me of a bear?"

          "I remind you of a bear, eh?" Arthur said, voice closer to Merlin's ear now. Merlin jumped slightly and he started forward. The heavily-appled tree branches were so low now they brushed the ground. Merlin walked around the dome of apples as Arthur followed at an unhurried gait. He tried to find an exit, but couldn't.

          _Why did 'bear' feel familiar?_ Merlin wondered.

          " _Bear_ …" Merlin said instinctually.

          Behind him, Arthur gasped and picked up the pace. Merlin hop-skipped ahead and went into a jog.

          " _Eternal_ ," Arthur answered back, and Merlin quaked.

          " ** _Bear_** ," Merlin repeated, then leaped as Arthur's ghostly fingertips touched his back.

          " ** _Eternal_** ," Arthur said, tone deep.

          They chased each other around the apple-domed enclosure. The stars shone brightly through the canopy of apples. The brilliancy of those pinpoints seemed to shine into Merlin's eyes. He then understood what he had to do in order to get out. He started to climb the tree.

          "That's cheating," Arthur groused. He climbed after him.

          "Is not," Merlin called down. "I'm perfectly within my rights."

          "Don't leave me!"

          Merlin reached the top before he knew it. His dream-self, his soul, must have infinite amounts of energy. He looked out over the land and saw that it had changed. The forest was gone. The apple tree was now the only tree there was, and the knoll had become an island.

          "Son-of-a-bitch!"

          "What did you call me?" Arthur demanded. Once he reached the top, stopping just on Merlin's left an arm's length away, the reprimand on his tongue died. He noticed what Merlin had noticed. "What the hell is going on?" Arthur demanded, tone partially bewildered. "Where are we, and where did this ocean come from?"

          "I don't know," Merlin said. "And I wasn't calling you a son-of-a-bitch; I was shocked to see that the forest was gone and we're suddenly now on an island."

          "I do hope that it wasn't Morgana's doing," Arthur said. "Or my father will have Leon's head."

          "We're dreaming," Merlin reminded him. "I doubt Morgana would be able to use her magic in our dreamscape."

          "You never know with witches," Arthur growled.

          Merlin's stomach churned, but he wasn't sure for which reason. The topic was too unpleasant and didn't sit well, so Merlin decided to change it.

          "I wonder when—and how—we're to wake up."

          "Once it is morning, I guess," Arthur said.

          "I would have stopped dreaming long before now."

          "Me too."

          Merlin stared at the darkening sky, the glittering stars, and the waxing moon. Everything seemed brighter in the dream. Closer. Bigger. The moon hung low in the sky.

          "Has it almost been a month already?" he asked.

          "Don't know," Arthur said. Then, softly: "You going to go into heat soon?"

          "I don't know," Merlin said. "It depends on how things go between us. In the conscious world, I mean."

          "You'll stay off your suppressants once we meet, then?"

          "Maybe," Merlin hedged. He really wasn't sure what he would do once they'd met. It wasn't as if he had any experience in the matter.

          "There's no maybe about it. You're my Soulmate. Once we meet, in the flesh, and look into each other's eyes, then we should Recognize and throw ourselves into each other's arms."

          "Is that what you're hoping for?"

          "That is what _will_ happen! We're Soulmates, and once we touch, our soul names will be revealed…"

          Merlin shivered. "Why don't we know them now?"

          _Emrys_.

          "I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur said. "I've been saying your soul name almost every other sentence. Don't you hear it?"

          "No."

          Arthur stilled and Merlin could tell without looking that he'd been shocked.

          "No?" Arthur breathed.

          "I haven't been hearing any sort of name that wasn't the one my mother gave me."

          There was a pause. "Have you been saying mine?" Arthur asked.

          "Yes."

          "You've been saying 'Arthur'?"

          "No," Merlin said. He tried to stare at Arthur, but his Soulmate's figure was still a ghostly blur. "I've been saying your soul-name."

          Arthur shivered so violently that he almost lost his grip on the branch he was on. The plump apples rocked on their stems.

          "I can't hear any other name either," Arthur admitted after a moment.

          There was a longer pause between them now, as if they both strained to hear the other saying their soul name, but there was nothing.

          "What do you make of this dream?" Merlin said, tiring of the silence. "Does it mean something?"

          "Maybe," Arthur said. "It is a foretelling dream?"

          "That we'll finally meet soon?" Merlin asked.

          "Yeah."

          "Might be."

          The silence between them wasn't exactly awkward, but it still felt charged with shuddering tension. Merlin tried to think of what to say, but his mind kept coming up blank.

          Presently, Arthur said: "My father doesn't approve."

          "No shock there," Merlin grumbled.

          "He wants me to tie with an Omega princess."

          "But you can't tie with anyone else but me."

          "That's correct."

          Merlin sighed. "Why's he being pig-headed about it?"

          "Watch it," Arthur warned. "That's the king and my father you're talking about. But to answer your question, I think it has to do with tradition. He wants me to mate with a princess so that we have royal ties with another kingdom, and we'd gain wealth and prestige and more land. I think it's just greed ruling him."

          "You might be right about that."

          "No matter what Uther does, he can't stop me. Having a Soulmate overrules any sovereign's word on the subject. The ruler cannot intervene. If he does—" Arthur stopped before he could finish his thought. He might be the prince, but he won't speak so of the king.

          That didn't stop Merlin though.

          "You'll have to kill him," Merlin said.

          "I will not murder my own father!"

          "I wouldn't want you to," Merlin said. "But if he doesn't wise up soon, he may get hurt, and you'll end up being the one hurting him."

          "Hopefully just his pride, if he's lucky."

          "I could have Gaius talk to him."

          "There's a good chance Uther won't listen."

          Merlin sighed, unable to deny it. As he watched the sky grow darker and the stars glimmer brighter, Merlin finally figured out that it was very difficult for them to lie to each other. He mentioned it to Arthur, and Arthur said: "Yeah, I guess our souls can't lie. They are the core of our very being, after all."

          "I hope we'll remember this conversation."

          "Do you remember all your other dreams about us?"

          It took Merlin only a few moments to realize: "Yeah, I do remember them."

          "Then you'll remember this one."

          "Don't know whether I'm relieved or worried."

          "Same here." Arthur made a noise as if he had just been stuck by something sharp. "And I don't know if I like the fact that I cannot lie right now."

          Merlin chuckled softly. "Well, get used to it. I want my Soulmate to be honest with me."

          "It is liberating, in a way, but also frightening."

          "It's intimate," Merlin said in agreement.

          "Yeah, that it is."

          "You're not used to being so intimate with someone, are you?"

          "I've never completely opened up to anyone before, not even to my nannies."

          "What about your father?"

          Arthur snorted. "I'm very cautious when it comes to my father. I try to tell him the truth, but sometimes he hates the truth."

          "Like the fact that you've got a Soulmate and cannot tie with some high-born Omega woman."

          "Yes, exactly that." Arthur sighed. "He hates that you're a man, and that you're not royalty." He paused. "You're not, are you?"

          "I'm not royalty."

          "But you're a pureblood."

          "As far as I know," Merlin said. "I don't know much about my father's side of the family."

          "That'll give Uther even more grey hairs."

          Merlin chuckled.

          The moon moved across the sky. Dark, streaky clouds passed over it. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and rippling the water. Merlin's mood dimmed.

          "I have a feeling your father is going to hate me."

          "Too bad," Arthur said. "You're not his Soulmate, you're mine."

          Mind made up, Merlin said: "It's not just because I'm a man. He'll hate me because I'm—I'm—"

          "You're what?" Arthur said.

          An extreme wind blew across the treetop. Merlin gasped.

          "—I'm falling!"

          He couldn't stop his momentum as he plummeted toward the ground. The branch he'd sat on had broke somehow, and he tumbled toward the grassy knoll-island. He sensed that Arthur tried to catch him, but didn't. He either missed completely or his hand went straight through Merlin's. He could not stop. All he could do was watch leaves and apples and twigs scatter into the air as he fell.

          He saw that Arthur had shouted something, but Merlin couldn't hear it. He had a pretty good idea what it was.

          _Emrys!_ Arthur's mouth silently screamed.

          Merlin tried to shout Arthur's soul-name, but it got lost in the roaring wind.

          From the top of the tree, Arthur disappeared. Merlin wondered if that meant he'd woken up. Merlin remembered having dreams where he would wake up just as something horrible had happened. It was just his luck that he had to fall in order to get out of dreamland.

          He tried to summon his magic to his aid, but it didn't listen. _This is a dream_ , he reminded himself. _It's your soul. Try to control it spiritually._

          He couldn't. He just kept falling. He had a fleeting burst of panic-filled fear before he hit the ground.

.-.

          Merlin awoke with a jerk. He swore loudly as his backside felt the solidness of the floor, and he lay there staring at the ceiling. He wasn't too physically hurt, but for some odd reason his entire face felt inflamed.

          "Merlin, are you all right?" Gaius said as he stormed into his room.

          "Yeah, fine," Merlin said. "Just fell out of bed."

          "Well, it's nearly time for you to get up anyway," Gaius said. "Breakfast will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

          "Okay," Merlin said. He forced himself up from the floor, sat on his bed, and thought on what had just happened. Arthur had been right—he did remember their conversation.

          Was that normal, what they had shared? Did that happen to everyone who had a Soulmate? When they'd _talked_ to each other, and couldn't lie, it felt almost like they'd been courting. Was it their _souls_ that had done the courting?

          _Arthur is probably experiencing the same thing_ , Merlin thought. _I wonder if he's scared._ _Or maybe he's just as dazed and confused as I am._

          Finally, Merlin shook himself out of it. He stood and went to have breakfast. He might visit with Gwen and Lancelot again, maybe talk to them and see what they thought. He really needed their comfort and support.

.-.

          When Arthur had seen Merlin fall from the top of the apple tree, he'd shouted Merlin's soul name over and over, but when he remembered that Merlin probably couldn't hear him saying that name, he opened his mouth to shout: "Merlin!" Unfortunately, he'd woken up at that moment.

          He stared up at his bed's canopy for a good long minute, mind reeling. He had been right about remembering their conversation. It'd been a revelation and a bit frightful, but at the same time a big relief. He'd never opened up to anyone like that before, and it daunted him. But it had felt right. His soul had talked to Merlin's soul; they'd been getting to know each other, spirit to spirit. They'd been….

          _Our souls had been_ **courting** , Arthur realized, astonished. He briefly wondered if their physical encounter would be the same. _Well, no,_ Arthur thought. _I couldn't lie in the dream—to myself or to Merlin. It would be different in the real world._

          In the dream he could dodge questions like a pro, tease his Soulmate, be himself—but it wasn't possible to straight-out lie.

          A knock at his door startled him into a sitting position. He ran a hand through his mussed hair and sighed. "Enter," he croaked.

          "Are you awake, Sire?" Morris said, and his high-pitched voice grated on Arthur's aching, sleep-muzzy head.

          "I am now," Arthur snapped. "Just… bring in breakfast and leave immediately, and do it without a word! I'm in no mood to hear you blather on, and I wish to be alone this morning."

          Without a word, Morris brought in Arthur's breakfast. He set it down quietly on Arthur's table and then scurried out as fast as he could. Arthur sighed. He sat in bed for a few minutes more before forcing himself to get up and eat. He had knights to train and a hunt to prepare for.

          The moment he was done with breakfast, Arthur dressed himself and scrambled to put on his armour. It was a tad more difficult doing it himself, but he had done it before and he wasn't in the mood to call Morris back. He left the room in haste, feeling oddly restless and in need of some good exercise.

          He was just about to greet his senior knights when a page came running toward him, looking serious and worried all at once.

          "Your Majesty," the page said the moment he reached Arthur. He bowed when he remembered he hadn't done it yet. "Sire, the king is asking for your immediate presence in the throne room."

          Arthur sighed loudly. He wished he had been able to beat up a dummy for a while first before facing his father today. "Okay, thanks," he told the page. The page nodded with a pleased smile, glad to have done his job without getting yelled at, and scurried away.

          His plans were now shot. Arthur had had it all planned out in his head when he ate breakfast: train the knights, beat up a dummy, take a bath, talk to Gaius about his dream, check on Morgana, and _then_ talk to his father.

          If Uther wanted to avoid regicide, he was going about it all wrong.

          Because of how he was raised, and the fact that many in the citadel and courtyard watched him, Arthur kept his walk at an even cadence. He had to show poise and control, even if that wasn't what he felt at the moment. He had to set a good example of how a pureblooded Alpha should act.

          Uther smiled when Arthur entered the throne room. Arthur saw Geoffrey taking a parchment and quill from the king, bow, and then leave through the servant's door.

          "You wished to see me, Father?" Arthur asked.

          "Yes. When you return from your hunt, I hope you'll bring back a large stag."

          "I as well," Arthur said. "Is that all you wished to see me about?"

          "No," Uther said. "I had just finished sending out invitations to family members and nearby allies."

          Arthur stared, felt an ominous swirling in his stomach. "Invitations?"

          "For your engagement party."

          "My… what?"

          "I am proud of you, Son," Uther said. His smile looked unnatural on his face. "For fighting your primal urges and doing what's right. The kingdom will be all the better for it, once you two are married."

          "I hope you're talking about my Soulmate," Arthur said.

          "Don't be facetious, Arthur, it's really tiresome. I'm speaking, of course, about Princess Mithian."

          Arthur stared, dumbfounded. "What?"

          "I noticed how you've been doing in courting her," Uther said. "I saw how you two have been acting."

          "Yes, but—"

          "I knew it would be only a matter of time before you two got things straightened out."

          "You don't understand, Sire. I'm not marrying Princess Mithian."

          "Of course you are!" Uther said, voice loud and full of mock joy. "There is no better match for you, Arthur. Her bloodline couldn't be more renown and her abilities flawless."

          "Father—"

          "We can't back out now," Uther said, determined. "The invites are out and the servants are already preparing things. I will not cancel because you continue this whole charade about a Soulmate."

          Arthur ground his teeth as he forced himself to stay silent. He'd been taught since he was a child that he was not to question the king's authority. Not only would it stir up disorder and divide the people, but it would prove to others that the prince had no control over his emotions.

          "Now then," Uther went on, tone softer but still stern, "I've invited your Uncle Agravaine and his Harem, as well as King Alined, King Rodor—Mithian's father, King Odin—"

          "Father, no!" Arthur gasped. "Not King Odin. He despises us—"

          "I'm hoping Odin and I can breach the gap between our two kingdoms over just such a celebration. He's welcome to bring anyone he wishes."

          Arthur wanted to argue, but he knew he wasn't allowed. Instead, he pressed his mouth into a thin line and continued to listen, face burning.

          "And," Uther said, "I've invited King Olaf and his daughter Vivian, Lady Helen of Mora, King Bayard, and Lady Catrina. You will see to it that they're all made welcome here, and that they have servants assigned to them if they don't bring any of their own."

          There was nothing Arthur could do. Even though he badly wished to argue the matter, he couldn't. Uther was king, and when his mind was made up it was very hard to make him change it.

          Instead of speaking his mind like he wanted to, Arthur bowed his head to show just enough deference and whirled round. He walked with surprising steady legs as he left the throne room.

          But the moment he was far enough away from his father, Arthur's temper flared dangerously. He knew the warning signs, and he knew he had to do something to tame his emotions before someone got needlessly hurt. He grabbed the nearest servant and told them to fetch Morris, and to tell Morris to bring the usual down to the courtyard. If he was going to let out some steam, he needed some help.

          Arthur strode heavy and long, and those around him knew to get out of his way, else they'd be in a world of hurt. He slowed up, knowing that he'd get to the courtyard before Morris by this rate. It was harder to do than he'd thought, so he stopped instead and leaned his forehead against a windowpane.

          The rain thankfully stayed at bay, but being England one never knew when another downpour would happen. He didn't plan on being out for too long, though. By the time he let out steam, it should be lunchtime.

          He was soon on the move again, and as he reached the courtyard he saw Lancelot walking toward him. There was a strained look to his face. Arthur paused.

          Then the wind blew, and Arthur realized the scent that wafted off Lancelot was familiar, and it didn't belong to Gwen. His face burned with suppressed anger.

          "Lancelot!" Arthur rumbled, low and threatening.

          "Sire," Lancelot said. He bowed low in greeting. "I—"

          Arthur slapped him hard across the face. Lancelot stumbled back and looked up at Arthur with wide eyes.

          "You're lucky you already have a mate," Arthur snarled, "or I would've run you through!"

          "How would you do that without a sword, Sire?" Lancelot said. He rubbed his cheek as he tried to get the feeling back into it.

          "Don't be impudent, Lancelot. It doesn't suit you. And you know what I mean. How could you do this to me?"

          "How could I what, Sire?"

          "You know what!" Arthur boomed. "You went and rubbed yourself all over my Soulmate—"

          "It's not like that, I swear—"

          "Do you always interrupt your betters?"

          Lancelot's face fell. "Forgive me, Sire, but I'm merely trying to explain myself—"

          Morris arrived with Arthur's sword, armour pieces, and a large, round wooden target. "This what you wanted, Sire?" he asked.

          "Yes, Morris," Arthur said. Morris quickly and flawlessly suited Arthur up and then went to stand in the usual spot. It wasn't the first time Arthur's been in such a mood that he needed to release his anger by practicing his knife-throwing.

          "Please," Lancelot said. "Let me explain, Sire."

          Arthur gestured for Morris to walk back and forth so that he could throw his knives at a moving target. Morris obliged, swiftly jogging across the courtyard.

          "Explain fast, Lancelot," Arthur said. "And it better be good, or I'll use you as target practice next."

          So Lancelot explained what had been going on between himself, Gwen, and Merlin. Arthur's arm stayed poised in the throwing postion as he listened. When Lancelot finished, Arthur lowered his arm.

          "You swear that what you just said was the truth?" Arthur asked.

          "Yes, Sire."

          "You left nothing out."

          "I swear, Sire, that I left no detail of my encounters with Merlin out."

          Arthur stood there a moment, relief flooding his insides as if a dam had just broke. Once he could feel his arms again, he quickly tossed the knife. Morris ducked his head behind the target when he noticed the knife had been aimed rather high. It hit the very top edge of the target.

          "Get your arse moving, Morris!" Arthur ordered. He wanted a moving target, not a target that just stood there quailing.

          "I see you're busy right now, Sire," Lancelot said. "I'll talk to you later."

          "Is it an emergency?" Arthur asked. He knew by the pinched look on Lancelot's face that there was something on his mind, so he felt it was his duty to at least ask.

          "No, Sire. It'll keep." The main issue that he wanted to address had already been so, anyway (which was the ordeal with Merlin). The rest could wait.

          "Then go, or I might accidentally injure you in my rage."

          Lancelot bowed and hastily left. If he couldn't win against Arthur during a normal tournament, there was no way that he'd win against a Frenzied Arthur.

.-.

          The sky was a lovely azure blue and nearly cloudless. Only a few tufts of the cottonballs passed by as if lost at sea, searching for others like them. The sun beamed bright yellowish-white rays.

         Merlin stepped out into the courtyard and shielded his eyes with a hand. Life went on as normal, it seemed, but Merlin felt anything but normal. His head ached in a very odd way, and he felt a strange itch just below the skin. It was a low-grade buzz within him, as if a few stray bees decided on making their honeycomb in his chest. Everything around him vibrated with an eldritch kind of movement, urging him to act. But he didn't know what sort of stage was set for him, nor did he know what lines he had to say.

          He felt as if he'd forgotten to put his trousers on (and he double-checked—they were there) as he walked through the courtyard. He'd never felt so exposed, and he'd never quaked so steadily before. Something was off.

          His mind whirled as he remembered a part of the conversation he had with Arthur's soul:

_"It is a foretelling dream?"_

          _"That we'll finally meet soon?"_

          _"Yeah."_

          _"Might be."_

          Merlin's feet stopped suddenly and he scanned the area. There was a haze in his line of vision, almost mirage-like. His stomach swooped and his heart sped up when his sight cleared.

          _It's him!_ his mind cried out.

         But his feet wouldn't obey him. It was like they had taken root and decided: _Here we shall stay and grow and flourish, so that everyone could see you're as strong as an oak—that you're not a weak little sapling ready to crumble at a moment's notice._

          However, he had to move. He had to know, to make sure, that the man across the courtyard was indeed his Soulmate.

          The man had the right colouring: blond hair, light eyes (couldn't tell if they were blue from this distance), strong chest, about his height, very athletic looking.

          And from the looks of it, _Beastly_! He watched, horrified, as his Soulmate threw knives at a servant who jogged back and forth, carrying a round target. Granted, his Soulmate hit the target with every knife he'd thrown, but it still registered as abuse in Merlin's mind.

          He had to put a stop to it. As the Alpha's mate, it was his duty.

          Wasn't it?

          Merlin hoped that it was indeed his Soulmate and not some weird case of mistaken identity. Then again, why else would his senses act up in such a manner? He didn't receive the same eerie impression toward the blond man that he'd gotten from Gwaine. When he'd been about to meet Gwaine, his senses had warned him to be careful. He did not get that sense at all from the blond man.

          He tried to swallow in a dry throat, and urged his feet toward the blond man—his Alpha.

          When the wind shifted, Arthur stopped and lifted his head. Their eyes met.

          _You will know, when eyes meet eyes…_

          _Great gods above!_ Merlin and Arthur's minds cried out simultaneously. _It's HIM!_

          Merlin's body trembled uncontrollably. But he wasn't the only one. He saw the slight tremors from Prince Arthur, even when his outward appearance maintained absolute dignity. Those dazzling blue eyes pierced him right to his soul—anchoring him on the spot.

          _Like the apple tree,_ Merlin thought.

          His feet moved under their own power, even though they felt like stone, and soon he stood five feet away from Arthur.

          Unbidden, his magic hummed rhythmically, warming his very core. His soul seemed to sing – to pulse and vibrate with uncontainable need. It wanted to leap out and join with Arthur's soul. He understood how it felt, but he had to be cautious. Their "soul courting" went well, but Merlin remembered that Arthur had emitted bits of his personality in the dream. Being the prince, Merlin had no doubts that Arthur grew up a little conceited and thought that commoners were below his notice.

          But they were Soulmates. Surely there was something there that Merlin could salvage. Surely Prince Arthur wasn't always a spoiled highborn. He had felt Arthur's compassion toward his kingdom and the people. The prince was loved by many—surely.

          Merlin took another step forward.

.-.

          The mere sight of Merlin nourished him. It was like a refreshing rain shower after a blistering hot afternoon. The scent that emitted from Merlin—a deep, musky rose aroma—eased the ache within, and he savored the sour-sweetness that assaulted his nostrils. He wanted to gorge himself with Merlin's essence. His masculine core, the essence of his Alpha-ness, screamed at him to take Merlin and claim him for his own. The predator within wanted to seize and mark and rub his scent all over his Soulmate. He wanted to sprint forward, to chase, to Hunt…

          He took a step forward.

.-.

          Merlin stopped after the one step and stood rigid when he noticed Arthur closing in. His body ripened at the mere sight and smell of Arthur. However, his mind and body were at war: there was a play of contradictory emotions. He, too, trembled with an unbearable need—the need to touch, to join bodies, and become one.

          And yet, Arthur's outward personality was somewhat abhorrent. It was a tug-of-war of mixed emotions. The sight, scent, and spiritual bond was harmonic. The outer sketch of Arthur's character, however, assailed Merlin as if it were the effluvia of human waste. The primal urge to mate almost overpowered the emotional need to flee. He wasn't sure which instinct to follow.

          He recalled the time not long ago when he had been Hunted by Arthur. The chase had been exciting. The thrill of the possibility of being caught and unable to get away. Maybe that was what his mind and heart wanted: a primal Hunt. He wanted Arthur to chase him. He wanted to be caught and become this man's Omega.

          From the look on his face, Arthur thought the same. It was a miracle in itself that they didn't rush at each other.

.-.

          Arthur had the overwhelming urge to just claim Merlin as his and to blazes with what Merlin wanted! He also struggled with the other baser need to protect and covert, to steal Merlin away and lock him up somewhere, to keep other Alphas away from him.

          He sensed Merlin's body reacting to him, and in turn his cock tried to present itself in the most flattering manner possible. It wasn't easy to do through a metal codpiece.

          It was like they were magnets trying hard to repel each other, instead of doing the natural thing and adhering seamlessly together.

          Immediately the strength of their emotions were abruptly halted when Merlin boldly stated: "You treat all your subjects in such an appalling manner, or is this some perverse form of Alpha Duel?"

          Arthur opened and closed his mouth, horrified. Was this Merlin's soul talking truthfully or was there other aspects at work?

          Presently, Arthur said: "Morris would be so lucky. He's no Alpha, I can tell you that. He's my Gelding manservant, and I'll thank you to mind your own business."

          "Gelding!" Merlin gasped. He felt an offense against his instinct for _rightness_. His mother had told him once that he had this in spades. He'd hoped that his Soulmate wasn't the kind that would try to abuse his status. "That's no excuse to treat your servant so cruelly," he said. "You should show more understanding and humanity toward others, especially those of lower class."

          "I don't have to listen to you—a lowly _commoner_! And you cannot speak to me in that manner!"

          "It shouldn't matter what a person's rank is," Merlin said. "It's still unnecessarily cruel to treat others so abominably. You shouldn't be harassing Geldings like this just because you think you can get away with it."

          A small sneer emerged on Arthur's lips. "And you'd be their savior, would you? That's very bold of you. But don't you know that such heroics are overrated?"

          "So are villians disguised as heroes."

          Arthur's face went through multiple shades of red before an amused smirk replaced his sneer.

          "You're being impertinent," Arthur rasped.

          Recognition flashed in Merlin's eyes. "Am I?" He smiled softly. "Oh, I guess I am."

          The realization that they'd said these words to each other in the shared dream sent a bone-shivering tremor through them. They stared at each other, hearts beating erratically and throats bobbing. The cores of their beings ached to get closer, but the outward tension forbid it.

          "Do you have any idea who I am?" Arthur said, voice low and almost commanding. Merlin fought off the shiver.

          "Yeah… I recognized you the moment I'd laid eyes on you."

          Hope stirred within Arthur, unbidden. He eagerly awaited to hear Merlin say the words that he stubbornly withheld. He dreaded this moment and ached for it simultaneously, wanting the agony within his very being to end.

          "Oh yeah?" Arthur said, throat tight.

          "Yeah," Merlin said. "You're a ruthless, empty-headed _Beast_!"

          Arthur reeled back on his heels as if he'd been slapped. "I beg your pardon!"

          "It's Alphas like you that give the rest of us purebloods a bad name!" Merlin growled. "I think it's best if I just continued on my way to Gwen and Lancelot's place. At least there I know I'll be treated like a person!"

          Merlin whirled 'round and began to walk away. Arthur was shocked for only a few seconds more, but then anger enveloped him just as fast and hard as his attraction had hit. Both emotions warred, battering in his heart as if fighting to break from steel fetters. He suddenly realized what Merlin had just admitted aloud. Of course Merlin was a pureblood, as he had stated before in the dream they'd shared. It was inevitable for a prince of such breeding to have a Soulmate with similar breeding—he wouldn't be Arthur's Intended otherwise.

          But the attitude—the absolute impudence and _unyielding demeanor_ —of such an Omega, and to talk to his Alpha in such a way! To have the audacity to stand there and tell the Prince of Camelot he was in the wrong—it absolutely galled him.

          Merlin was an _Adamant Omega_!

         Arthur didn't know if he liked such an Omega after all. He had hoped before that his Omega wouldn't be so weak or spiritless, but now that he'd come face-to-face with one… he wondered if he had accidentally, somehow, bargained with evil spirits when he'd made that wish.

          Finally, Arthur shouted: "Wait, just where do you think you're going? Don't you dare walk away—I hadn't dismissed you yet! Mer—" Arthur throat closed up. He quickly swallowed and shouted: "You—you get your skinny arse back here, or—or else!" he finished lamely. "I mean it!"

          His heart thudded with terrible longing and ache. Desperately, he shouted: " _Merlin!"_

          But Merlin did not stop. Instead, his pace quickened and soon he was running. The pull between them left a sharp pang in Arthur's heart. Again, he felt the war within. He wanted to run after Merlin and, at the same time, wanted to storm off to his chambers for some private fuming.

          _How am I to survive such a mate_ , Arthur wondered. He stood there, thinking, arms limp and lifeless—heart pounding. _Could my father be right? Maybe I should just take Merlin as Concubine after marrying an Omega princess of outstanding prestige. Then I wouldn't be looked upon by other nobles as_ that-Alpha-Prince-who-lets-his-Omega-walk-all-over-him.

          His instincts told him to follow Merlin—to move in the same direction and Hunt him. But, instead, Arthur turned away and headed for his chambers. Each step became more and more painful.

.-.

          Gwen opened the door to see Merlin there, wearing a downtrodden expression, eyes dull and lifeless.

          "Oh, Merlin," she said. "What happened?"

          "May I stay here for a while?" Merlin said, tone devoid of all emotion. "I could use some comfort."

          "You certainly may," Gwen said. She ushered him inside and immediately put on a pot of tea. She could see that he desperately needed it. "Now, tell me everything that happened."

TBC


	9. Redolent Desires

Chapter 09

.-.

****Redolent Desires** **

.-.

When Lancelot entered his house, Merlin was pacing the floor in quick strides, face drawn and pinched. Gwen sat at the table, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. A half-drunk cup sat on the opposite side of her, the chair there askew. Merlin must have been there, having his talk with Gwen. When Lancelot shut the door behind him, Merlin stopped pacing and looked up. Gwen's mouth quirked into a smile of recognition before she even lifted her head.

"You're home already," Gwen said. She stood to greet him. "I didn't think you'd be back until suppertime."

"Me neither," Lancelot said. "But Prince Arthur wasn't in the mood to talk." He turned his attention to his agitated friend. "Hey, Merlin. Anything I can do for you?"

"Not unless you can restrain Prince Arthur's tendency to be a royal pain in the arse," Merlin said between clenched teeth.

Lancelot stared. "I take it things didn't go well between you?"

Merlin kicked the edge of a chair, nearly toppling it over. "You could say that."

"Merlin's told me what happened," Gwen said. "They…" She quickly glanced at Merlin a second before continuing. "They shared a dream."

Lancelot slowly sank down onto the chair he normally vacated. "What—shared…?" he breathed. He had heard that that sort of thing was practically nonexistent.

"Their souls talked to each other in a shared dreamscape," Gwen explained. "They discovered each other's personalities and mannerisms, more or less."

"We couldn't lie!" Merlin huffed. He plopped down heavily onto their bed, which was still in nest-mode. "Oh, we dodged the more difficult subjects, to be sure… and I almost told him things about myself that I hadn't told anyone else. I don't know what to do if we were to ever share a dream again."

"You remember how it started?" Lancelot said. "I mean how the two of you started to speak to each other."

"Of course I do," Merlin said. "How could I not?"

"Then you'll know how to avoid doing it again."

"I don't know if it's that simple," Merlin grumbled.

"They also met in person, love," Gwen said.

Lancelot stared at Merlin, wide-eyed. "Right after sharing a dream?"

"I had the shared dream with him just before I woke," Merlin explained. "Then I met him, face to face, just a few minutes ago before I came over. He was abusing his manservant."

Lancelot's face contorted into surprise and then confusion. "You mean Morris? How was Prince Arthur abusing him?"

"He was making Morris carry a target back and forth while he threw knives at it."

"Oh," Lancelot said. "I don't understand—how was Arthur abusing him?"

Merlin threw his hands up in frustration. "You don't call that abuse? He could have hit Morris!"

"No chance," Lancelot said. "Arthur's aim is too good."

"He still could've hurt him. Accidents happen, you know."

"I can assure you that Arthur isn't as bloodthirsty as you think."

"My mate is right," Gwen said. "And Arthur has his good points, too, so all's not lost."

Merlin snorted. "Oh, definitely. His good looks just absolutely absolve him of all wrong-doing."

"I'm not talking about his looks. I mean that he's a good man. He actually cares about the people and their welfare—"

"If he cared so much about others then he wouldn't have treated his servant so abominably!" Merlin said.

Lancelot sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Don't judge him by just that first encounter. Arthur isn't setting himself out to hurt Morris. It's something that he does to let off steam, and Morris really is better off with Arthur as his master. Better than his old master, anyway."

Merlin stared and waited, thinking Lancelot was going to expound on that subject, but he didn't.

"Besides," Lancelot said, "if Morris got injured, Arthur would stop throwing knives immediately and get Morris to Gaius. He wouldn't leave him lying there to bleed to death."

"Would his old master?" Merlin asked.

"Would his old master what?" Lancelot said.

"Would Morris' old master let him just lie on the ground, bleeding."

Gwen turned her head away and pretended to busy herself with the tea. Lancelot was silent for a moment, then coughed softly into a fist. "Well…"

"There's a good chance, yes," Gwen said without facing them. She refilled their cups of tea, giving a brand new one to Lancelot.

Merlin stared at Lancelot and raised an eyebrow to indicate that he wanted him to expand on that subject.

"Let's just say that the man—Morris' old master—had been warned, and if he does anything remotely horrible to another gelding or anyone that isn't pureblood, he's getting thrown in the dungeons."

"Good," Merlin said, nodding. He sat back and crossed his arms, feeling worlds better. "Men like that shouldn't be allowed to even be near the non-pures."

"I agree," Gwen said. She sat down on Lancelot's left, holding a new mug of tea in both hands.

Before Merlin could even think of anything else to say, there was a knock on the door. Lancelot stood immediately to answer it.

"Good afternoon," the person on the other side of the door said.

"Elyan," Lancelot said. "Good afternoon. Won't you come in?" He opened the door wider.

Elyan strode in. "Thanks. Hey, there's my favorite sister."

Gwen stuck her tongue out at him. "Your __only__ sister, smart aleck."

"Oh, yeah," Elyan said, smiling. "I forgot."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Merlin cracked a smile at the siblings' antics.

"What brings you here?" Lancelot asked, shutting the door behind Elyan.

"Just want to let Gwen know that I won't have the time to show her how to etch in certain shapes and letters into metal today. Prince Arthur has scheduled an afternoon hunt and I'm invited."

"Invited or ordered?" Lancelot said.

"Same thing," Elyan said. He shrugged one shoulder. "If our illustrious prince has invited you on a hunt, you're better off not saying no."

Gwen stood from her spot and went to the fire. "Want some tea?"

"Sure, why not?" Elyan said. He sat himself down on the other side of Merlin. "Don't know how long we'll be out." He then finally acknowledged Merlin's presence. "Oh, hello. I don't believe we've met?"

Merlin couldn't help smiling. He held out a hand. "I'm Merlin," he said. "And you must be Gwen's brother." He snapped the fingers of his other hand while shaking Elyan's, pretending to think. "What was your name again?"

Elyan laughed. "It's Elyan," he said. "Sir Elyan if you want to be formal."

"No thanks," Merlin joked. They shared a smile.

Elyan's expression changed considerably as he kept hold of Merlin's hand. "Oh! You're an Omega."

"You finally noticed?" Gwen said. "I thought your alpha senses would have picked it up the moment you walked in."

"Well," Elyan said, scratching the back of his head. "You really can't blame me. My mind's been elsewhere lately. Besides, it isn't like Merlin's in heat or anything." He stared at Merlin. "Are you?"

"No, I'm not," Merlin said. "Not for a while yet, anyway."

"Best to keep your hands off him, though," Lancelot said. He nodded toward their hands, which were still clasped. "He belongs to the Prince."

Elyan released Merlin's hand as if it had been on fire. He surreptitiously wiped his own hand on his trouser leg. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "I don't want Arthur to attack me like he attacked Gwaine."

Gwen pulled her brother up from his seat and dragged him over to the basin. "You better wash your hands, then. I would rather not have to come to your funeral this weekend."

As Elyan thoroughly washed his hands, he said: "Arthur also __invited__ Sir Percival and Sir Hector. They have no choice but to obey. You know how our prince is."

"Why the sudden interest in wanting to hunt this afternoon?" Lancelot asked.

"It was Princess Mithian that insisted, believe it or not," Elyan said. He turned to dry his hands on a clean towel. "Apparently, she's the type of Omega that likes hunting."

Lancelot's eyes widened, and Merlin turned his head to stare incredulously at Elyan.

"An Omega that likes to hunt?" Merlin gasped. "Now I've heard everything."

"The king thinks they're courting," Elyan continued. He sat down again but further away from Merlin this time.

Gwen threw her head back and laughed. Lancelot shook his head and sighed. Merlin stared.

"Are they?" Merlin asked. "Courting, I mean." He brought his cup to his lips and drank slowly.

"Not as far as I know," Elyan said. "To me they just look like good friends wanting to spend time together. If I had a guess, I'd say that they were just making it look good for the king. I think it worked, too, because he's ordered an engagement party—"

Merlin choked on a mouthful of tea and coughed hoarsely. Gwen rushed over and patted Merlin on the back before her mate could. She'd rather not have Merlin's scent on Lancelot again if she could help it.

"All right, Merlin?" she asked.

Merlin nodded and cleared his throat noisily.

Elyan stared at Merlin. "By your reaction, I'm guessing you didn't know."

"None of us knew," Gwen said. She suddenly looked thoughtful. "It's no wonder Arthur was angry this morning. He must have received the news from his father."

"That explains it," Lancelot said. "I don't blame him for wanting to let out some steam. If Uther wasn't his father, Arthur probably would have killed him."

"Does Uther even know about Merlin?" Elyan asked.

"Sort of," Lancelot said. "He knows that Arthur has a Soulmate, but he won't let Arthur search him out."

Merlin's cheeks grew warm. "Well, he's found me." Then he told Elyan about the meeting. With Gwen's encouragement, he told Elyan about the shared dream as well. By the end, Elyan's eyes were wide and blinking.

"Sharing a dream is supposed to be one of the rarest phenomenon to ever happen between two Recognized peoples," Elyan said, voice hushed.

"It is," Lancelot said. "That just proves that Merlin belongs to Arthur, and Uther isn't supposed to get in their way. He's risking his well-being by interfering like this."

"I could talk to Princess Mithian and see if she knows about it," Gwen said.

"Good thinking, love," Lancelot said. "Elyan, why don't you have a chat with Arthur during your outing? See what you can find out."

"Already thought of doing it," Elyan said. "And since you're agreeing that I do it, then I will."

Merlin started when he felt Gwen's hand thread through his hair and he looked up.

"Do you want to lie down in my nest, Merlin?" Gwen asked. "It might make you feel better."

Merlin shrugged. "Well… I don't know. I'm thinking that maybe I should talk to Gaius."

Gwen placed a cool hand on his forehead and tutted. "You need to rest. You're so flustered about your meeting with Arthur that your body's overheating. It must have taken __a lot__ of strength to resist your Soulmate."

Merlin looked away from Gwen's penetrating stare, swallowed thickly. "Yeah, maybe…"

Gwen pulled him up from his seat as she'd done with Elyan earlier. She led him over to her nest. "Here, get comfy and relax. You don't seem to know it, but your body is reacting badly to your mind's rejection of Arthur." She quickly grabbed a cloth, doused it in a bucket of cool water, and placed it on his forehead.

Merlin sank more into Gwen's nest from the simple touch of the cool cloth. He started to realize that she was right. His body was a lot warmer than it had been since this morning, and he'd been shaking. He must have been trying to blank it all out from his mind, but his body ignored his attempts.

If Merlin concentrated real hard, he could even __feel__ the pull between himself and Arthur. The best Merlin could describe it, if anyone were to ask, was that it felt like a very taut thread. Imagine that Merlin stood a few feet in front of Arthur. If he moved left or right instead of backward or forward, he sensed the thread's vibrations. If he were to only move away from where Arthur stood, the thread would grow tighter and tighter, and his soul—or heart—would shudder painfully. The ache within would increase and the pain would practically halt him in his tracks.

It was inevitable that he and Arthur were going to complete their bond, sooner rather than later. Arthur sensed the pull as well, Merlin was sure of it. For a pureblooded Alpha to ignore such a pull, one had to have incredible willpower. It was rare for any Alpha to resist, ignore, or deny such sensation. The instinct to track down their mate, to Hunt and Seek, was a powerful motivator. It was a primeval instinct, a need that must be obeyed, and disobeying such a natural thing only brought misery and pain.

But he did need sleep. It was the middle of the day, so there was no way that he'd be sharing a dream with Arthur now. He might as well settle in and rest, like Gwen suggested. Maybe once he'd regained some of his strength, he'd have an easier time making his way to Gaius'.

.-.

Arthur's living quarters were being destroyed… by Arthur.

The rage he had felt deep in his chest wasn't the typical rage an Alpha felt when goaded into an Alpha Duel. It didn't have that sharp killer instinct latched in. There was frustration, excess energy, overwhelming urges, and pent-up lust.

The latter was the worst. His body craved to touch Merlin, and at the same time his mind rejected him.

Merlin was __not__ at all what he'd expected from a mate. Although Arthur admitted that he didn't want an Omega that was totally subservient, a part of him still found Merlin's disobedience disconcerting. The only explanation that he could think of was that it had something to do with the pureness of his blood. Arthur came from a long line of pureblooded Alphas. As far as Arthur knew, there were no half-bloods, no geldings, and no betas in his family tree. The most ancient part in his mind and blood probably wanted to be obeyed in all things. To have a mate that talked back and told him what he'd done wrong didn't sit well.

He paused in his destruction, thinking on just why Merlin's adamantness greatly disturbed him. He sat heavily in the middle of the room, legs crossed, and put his head in his hands.

Arthur knew he didn't want a totally subservient and weak Omega. He shouldn't let it bother him. Merlin was his Soulmate, their bloodlines matched in a way they didn't completely understand, and Arthur needed to accept Merlin. As time went on, it would get harder and harder to resist. The next time they met, they might end up on the floor, lips locked.

But there were rules to follow. There had to be a courting phase before Merlin went into heat next. It was the time for them to get to know each other better. If the rule wasn't abided, the Alpha could get into trouble. It was because there was a fine line between consent and rape when it came to heats and ruts. If an Omega went into heat, and the Alpha's advances were not welcomed, then the Alpha could lose his life; especially if the Omega accused him of rape.

Arthur slowly came out of his reverie and looked around. The bed's blankets and covers hung partway off the bed, some of it torn. The pillows had been tossed aside and were losing their feathers. Chairs were turned over, objects such as books and statues lie tumultuously about; the fireplace's rug was half burned. His throwing knives and long-swords were embedded within surfaces there weren't stone. One knife was even halfway in the door, and the wood of that door was solid oak.

His best sword stuck up in the middle of his bed, as though he'd just done a downward thrust. Worried for his mattress's condition, he lay back on the floor and looked under his bed. The sword's point didn't show. There was a good possibility that it could be repaired.

Tempers such as these weren't looked on highly. A royal Alpha had to maintain control of his emotions at all times. He was considered weak otherwise. He had to have a strong will as well as a strong fighting technique. He needed to rule the kingdom with a sane head, a moderate heart, and a kind soul. Anger and spitefulness had no place in the life of royalty.

He released a deep sigh before sitting up. He contemplated making it easier on Morris by cleaning some of his room, but he was in no mood. The moment his eyes landed on one of the weapons, he felt the uncontrollable urge to destroy again.

He swiftly stood and made his way out. He had to get ready for the afternoon hunt anyway.

On his way to the stables, he met Elyan. The man greeted Arthur in the proper way, and then they walked together to the stables.

"Where's Princess Mithian, my lord?" Elyan asked.

"She should be here," Arthur said, tone clipped but even.

Sirs Percival and Hector were already at the stables, preparing their horses. A stable hand came out immediately and gave Arthur his steed. Then he pulled along the white mare that belonged to Mithian.

Arthur didn't mount his horse yet. He waited until Mithian joined them. When she finally showed, he was surprised to see her with a look of deep concentration on her face.

"Is there something bothering you, Mithian?" he asked.

She shook her head, but her frown didn't fade. "It's nothing. Let's go."

Her gelding servants helped her onto her mare as Arthur got on his stallion. Elyan steered his horse closer to Arthur. Percival and Hector rode ahead. When Mithian was ready, she rode alongside Arthur. Elyan rode behind them, to guard their rear.

A few servants acted as beaters to scare game out from bushes and hidey-holes. Most of them were geldings, but a couple were betas. It was best to use them during a hunting trip, because they didn't emit any sort of potent smell. Percival and Hector veered off to block any escaping prey—Percy went to the left and Hector went right. Arthur and Mithian stayed in the middle, because they were the ones with the bows and the ones that were supposed to do the hunting. Elyan stayed a few feet behind, guard-ready.

Mithian's expression had changed slightly from solemn to pensive. Arthur wondered if he should ask her if she needed to talk, but he knew that if he felt similar he probably wouldn't want to talk about it, especially to another royal person.

But she took the decision out of his hands and spoke first:

"You met him, didn't you?"

Arthur turned his head in shock, staring at her with wide eyes. Then he had to go back to watching what was in front of him so he didn't accidentally run his horse into a tree. "You know? But how—"

"Again, it's your scent," she said. "It hadn't changed drastically, but its tone and potency had altered considerably. To me, a pureblooded Omega, your scent is warning me not to get too close. Its aura radiates a sort of halo around you, as if you're trying to get your mate's attention."

Arthur bowed his head, somewhat embarrassed. But it was Mithian, another royal person—he didn't have to feel ashamed or weak-minded simply because his emotions were easy for her to sense.

"To tell you the truth, Mithian, my mind has been in turmoil since I met him."

"Indeed?" she said. He didn't want to look and see the smirk on her face, because he could already tell by her tone. He kept his eyes on the path before them, jaw twitching.

"His scent is… the only word I can come up with right now is 'heavenly', but that's an understatement. I've never scented such a strong and compelling aroma before, and yet his lowly attitude…"

Mithian sighed. "I take it that your Intended isn't royalty, then."

"It isn't unheard of," Arthur retorted.

"Of course not," Mithian said. "I didn't mean any offense. You'd mentioned that he's lowly, so I just assumed—"

"Yes, of course. Forgive me for my curt response. I'm—" He clenched the horse's reins as he tried to steady his shaking. "It isn't easy… I'm doing my best to keep my regal composure through it all, but it's playing havoc on my mind."

"Maybe you shouldn't be out here," she said after a short pause. "It's obvious that you're not well enough to focus on this hunt if you’re struggling with a different kind of hunt."

"I made a promise to you—"

"Your health comes first, Sire. If you wish to postpone our outing…"

Arthur shook his head. He so desperately wanted to do as she suggested, but he couldn't. His father wouldn't look too kindly on him abandoning Mithian in the woods just because he couldn't keep control of his emotions.

"Tell you what," Mithian said. "We'll cut the outing short. The moment we get just one stag, even if it's small, we'll return to the castle."

He wanted to refute with some kind of princely reply, but he couldn't think straight. He might be away from the citadel, but the faint smells of his Soulmate were permeating the air around them. It made him wonder if they were near the spot where Merlin had been traveling from his hometown. He quietly berated with himself for not checking any deeper into the woods for more of his mate's scent.

"Let's hurry then," Arthur said.

.-.

The hunt was a tradition that went back to the beginning of Britain and her neighboring countries. It was even established before the courting rules had been formed (probably by those damn Druids). Before any rules had been set in stone, Alphas were allowed to “hunt” their Omegas like animals. During times of the heat, Alphas went on Hunting Raids through the land, Seeking and Taking whatever Omega they wanted. The Omegas were in such a heat, there wasn’t anything they could do about it. Most of the Alphas were in such a rut that they couldn’t stop. It had been a complicated mess of what was consent and what wasn’t.

And although when the rules had been established, a majority of Alphas just as relieved as the Omegas, there were still some alphas that weren’t pleased with it. Those that weren’t happy were most likely ones that enjoyed taking whatever Omega they wanted without punishment. Even those that weren’t even born yet when the rules had been established didn’t care for the change.

Sir Hector was one such alpha. He wanted to go back to the old days when alphas were allowed to fuck any omega they wanted when the heat hit. It was the natural way of things, and this whole courting business was an unnecessary step to procreation. If the omega that you mated with didn’t get pregnant, or they just didn’t fit, then that was nature’s way (and some believe it was the gods’ way) of telling the coupling pair that their genes didn’t match, and that they needed to find someone else.

It should still be like that, as far as Hector was concerned.

But the whole mating for life thing didn’t sit well with him either. He wanted to mate with whatever young thing got into heat, then leave to find the next horny bitch. He admired Lord Agravaine for taking more than one mate, and Hector knew that he had similar thoughts when it came to mating. Lord Agravaine had even told him during his last visit that he wished he could just “divorce” those he had now (not all were Omegas) and go mate with some new nymphing thing. Male or female, it didn’t matter to him.

It didn’t matter to Hector either. Even the young male omegas were white-hot alluring. Hector loved them young. The younger the better. One such incident involving a young boy omega had happened to him ages ago, but they didn’t click and so he couldn’t keep his knot in. It had been extremely frustrating.

He still fucked him, even if the knot didn’t tie, and that at least was satisfying.

Hector had been lucky, though. He could have been charged with rape, but the boy was either too meek to tell anyone what happened, or he actually hadn’t minded. Either way, Hector’s neck had been mysteriously spared.

He’d been very careful since then. It was hard to resist, though, and thanks to this new Omega roaming the place, it was getting even harder. The scent the un-mated Omega had was so appealing, Hector was even contemplating fighting the prince for him. It wasn’t that he had a death wish. It was that his Alpha genes were demanding that he fight for what he wanted, and that he prove to everyone that he was strong enough, and had the right, to mate with the boy just as much as Prince Arthur did.

Soulmates? No such thing. Hector heard of them, but he never believed they existed. It was just two types of genes telling each other: Hey, we can easily make a baby! That was all it was. The whole Soulmate thing was in their heads. Sex could easily turn into love if you let it, so it was no wonder that those that claimed to have Soulmates looked head-over-heels. But Hector was not falling for it. He would prove to be the stronger and he would claim the boy, he had no doubts on that.

Miles back, Hector had given up beating. He couldn’t care less about this sort of hunt. He was after a more tasty morsel. His nose had led him to a spot that had smelled awfully familiar. He had smelled it on Sir Gwaine not long ago.

Hector crawled on all fours and carefully sniffed the ground. The scent was near, and he got up on hands and feet and moved swiftly across the land like a hound scenting prey. He discovered an old campfire. The area reeked with Omega juices.

The boy--Merlin--had been there. He found the exact spot where Merlin had been sleeping, and rubbed himself vigorously on it, over and over, until he was dirty with it. Then he yanked out his half-hard cock and pissed on the spot.

Merlin might have been first claimed by Arthur, but Hector was challenging that claim, one drop of urine at a time. And maybe, just maybe, he might leave a little steaming pile of manure behind as an extra warning to any other challengers.

.-.

Elyan recognized that look on his prince’s face. Being an alpha himself, he understood the struggles that took place within. He also knew just who it was that Prince Arthur pined for.

Princess Mithian rode ahead, bow at the ready. By the sounds of it, a deer would soon be visible, and taking it down wouldn’t be much of a task. Although it looked as if Arthur didn’t really care either way.

“Sire, I feel as if I should say something, but I have a feeling that it won’t do much good.”

Arthur kept his eyes in front of him, pretending to be interested in the hunt. “What are you implying, Sir Elyan?” Arthur said.

“You really don’t want to do __this__ sort of hunt, do you?”

“How observant of you,” Arthur lowly intoned. “Perhaps you could recount something else that is going on that’s easily noticeable.”

“How about the fact that Princess Mithian will get a stag before you do, and that you don’t care, which is a first.”

“She’s our guest. I’m obliged to let her shoot the first deer.”

“Sire,” Elyan said, lowering his voice, “you know that the king will be disappointed with you if you’re not the one to bring the stag down.”

“He’s been disappointed with me plenty of times,” Arthur said. “It’s nothing new.”

Elyan bit his lower lip, debating on how to breech the subject further without angering his lord.

“Uh, Sire… I know that the hunt you actually desire--”

“Not another word, Sir Elyan.”

“But--”

“I’m not joking,” Arthur snapped. “I don’t wish to talk about it with you, or with anyone else at the moment.”

“If you’re wondering, though, about Merlin--”

The look Arthur threw at Elyan made him pause, but only for a short while. He knew that the look in Arthur’s eyes wasn’t the kind that everyone feared, but it still made Elyan very wary about going on.

Arthur brought his eyes back ahead. There was sudden movement to their right, and a huge buck came bounding forward.

Before Arthur could draw his bow, an arrow sliced neatly through the air and pierced the beast squarely in the head. The stag went down, bellowing and groaning as its life was snuffed.

“Impressive,” Elyan said. “For a princess.”

“Princess Mithian is a grand huntress,” Arthur said. “There’s no doubt about it.”

“Looks like I won,” Mithian said. She slowly drew her palfrey closer to the men. “I’m surprised that you let me, Arthur.”

“I didn’t let you,” Arthur said straightaway. “You beat me to it, fair and square.”

Mithian smiled a secretive, knowing smile. “Of course. And we all know that your mind and heart are fully into this type of hunt.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do anything that would displease my king or Camelot’s subjects.”

“Searching for your Intended mate won’t displease your subjects,” Mithian said. “They’d understand, just as everyone else would.”

“Except my father.”

“He has no say in this, Sire,” Elyan said. “You know that. He cannot stop you from claiming what is rightfully yours.”

When Mithian noticed the troubled expression in Arthur’s eyes, she moved her horse closer to place a warm hand onto his arm. “I know what you’re going through. Trust me on this one, Arthur. Duty to the crown and to yourself is always a struggle. But if you continue to deny the truth of the situation, you could make it worse.”

Arthur raised his eyes and met hers. “How worse could it get?”

Mithian smiled warmly, but with some force. The sadness briefly shone through. “I’ve heard things… things that definitely sound worse than disappointing one’s father.”

“My father is the king, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“It doesn’t matter whether he’s a king or a pauper or even a Druid. He hasn’t the right to keep you from your Soulmate.”

“What am I to do then to make him see things my way?”

“I shall talk to him,” she said. “I’ll tell him how I feel and what’s going on between you and Merlin. Hopefully I can get through to him.”

“I suppose it’s worth a try. I sure as hell can’t get him to understand.”

“I agree, Sire,” Elyan said. “But will the king listen to Princess Mithian?”

.-.

When they returned to Camelot, Arthur expected his father to be on the front steps to greet him, but he hadn’t expected there to be others with him.

After the stag was handed off to staff to bring to the kitchens, Arthur and Mithian climbed the front stairs to greet the king and the royal guests.

“Uncle,” Arthur said. “It’s quite the surprise to see you here.”

“I was invited,” Agravaine said. “By your father, of course.”

“And I see you brought your entire harem with you.”

“Not the entire harem,” Agravaine said. “I have three more back home.”

“Added a few last time I saw you, then,” Arthur said. Protocol dictated that he couldn’t greet the mates of another royal alpha. He tried to seem friendly anyway, and so he smiled at them.

There were three girls and a boy. The main mate, the First, must be the beautiful blonde with the busting bust line. The other two girls looked somewhat bored and a little intimidated. The boy, however, looked particularly cowed.

“It is my right to have as many bed-warmers as I wish. There is no law against it.”

“I suppose you’re right about that, Uncle. I do hope you know what you’re getting into with all these mates. I know you’ve said before, but who exactly is the First Wife? You changed things around so much last time, I want to make sure.”

“It’s still Sophia,” Agravaine said. He brought her forward, as indication that it was okay for her to be talked to now. “She’s always been number one Omega.”

Sophia bowed how she was instructed to and said, “Your Majesty.”

“And these others?” Arthur asked.

As Agravaine pointed at them, he said their names. “Sefa, another Omega and King Ruadan’s daughter. Drea, a half-blood -- part beta, part pure. And this fopdoodle here is Daegal. He’s a Gelding.”

Arthur should have guessed. Many geldings that royal purebloods have usually looked terrified that they’d get punished for something.

“Let’s adjourn to the throne room,” Uther said. He addressed a few servants to help Agravaine’s harem get situated in a guest room. Then Arthur, Mithian, and Agravaine followed Uther inside the castle and to the throne room.

The castle was still being decorated for the so-called engagement party. Arthur and Mithian shared a glance. She nodded to him, indicating that she still planned to speak to the king.

“Much has happened since you were last here, Agravaine,” Uther said. “Some good, some bad… but mostly good things have taken place. The future is looking very bright for Camelot.”

“Indeed?” Agravaine said.

“Many engagements have just taken place. But the main one I wish to discuss with you is the one we’re giving a party for.”

“Ah, yes,” Agravaine said. He quickly glanced at Arthur and Mithian and then back to Uther. “That engagement.”

“Sire,” Mithian said, “may I please speak with you? It’s a matter of most importance.”

“Yes, of course you may,” Uther said sweetly. There was no doubt that Uther was now considering Mithian as his daughter-in-law.

“If I may, Sire, I wish to retire to my rooms,” Arthur said.

Uther gestured a familiar hand-signal that told Arthur that he had his permission. Arthur felt the need to get out of there, away from Uther and from Agravaine alike. He considered not going to his chambers, however; he might pay a few others a visit first.

Before he could veer off from his trek, Princess Elena came barreling down the hall, laughing and skipping happily.

“No you don’t,” she shrieked.

Right behind her came a huskier tone: “You better bloody believe that I’ll catch you, you minx!”

“Never!” Elena shouted, grin still firmly in place. “Never, never, never--oh, hi, Arthur!” She halted right in front of him.

Gwaine skidded to a halt right behind Elena, almost running into her. He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around Elena’s middle. “Ha, caught you!”

Elena shrieked and pretended she wanted to get away. “Unhand me!”

“Thanks for the help, Arthur,” Gwaine said. He buried his face into Elena’s neck. “Now I can have this scrumptious little tart.”

“Stop it, you rogue!” Elena screamed.

“Um, did I miss something here?” Arthur asked. He wasn’t sure if Princess Elena really did want help or if she was just being silly. The smile on her face was suggesting the latter.

“Oh, you haven’t told Arthur yet,” Elena said to Gwaine. She lightly smacked his shoulder. “For shame!”

“He was off hunting,” Gwaine said, pouting. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“I’ll tell him then,” Elena said. She turned to Arthur, huge grin plastered on her face. “My father has given permission to Sir Gwaine to woo me.”

Arthur blinked. “Um… that’s good?”

“We clicked,” Gwaine explained further. “The moment we met and our eyes locked, we knew we were meant to be.”

“At least our bodies are telling us that we’re meant to be,” Elena said. “But we still have to follow the courting rules and such. But that’s fine with me. I’m having fun!”

“Me too,” Gwaine said, still grinning from ear to ear. “Who knew that courting before mounting could be this fun?”

Elena suddenly turned and smacked Gwaine on the back. “I challenge thee!” she shouted gaily, and then ran back down the hall.

“Again?” Gwaine smiled. “Oh well. Tally-ho!” He took off after Elena. Their laughter echoed throughout the halls.

Watching the pair of newly engaged mates stirred a deep sense of need within Arthur. He refused to acknowledge it as loneliness, but his heart and soul continued to battle with his mind. He knew the cure for it, but what of the consequences? What sort of price would he have to pay in order to not be lonely anymore?

Then he shook himself out of his funk. Since when had he actually been lonely? He was always surrounded by servants and other royalty from court. He went to the same meetings that his father did, spoke to the same people, hung around all the same sorts.

Yet, he had seen loneliness and despair in his father’s face, and Arthur found himself empathizing more so now than he had done before.

He knew what he had to do -- and he knew where he had to go.

On the way to the infirmary, he saw Lancelot and Gwen walking toward him, as if they had just been to the infirmary themselves.

“Lancelot, Gwen,” Arthur greeted. They smiled at him.

“Sire,” Lancelot said, bowing.

“Your Majesty,” Gwen said, also bowing.

“How are you two?” Arthur asked. He moved forward to shake Lancelot’s hand, and then he kissed the back of Gwen’s.

“We are well, thank you,” Gwen said. The glow about her told all, if not to his eyes and other senses, then to his nose.

“Monthly check up, then?”

“Yes,” Gwen said, beaming. “And all is well.”

“Our child is healthy and growing very well,” Lancelot said. He, too, couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“That is good news,” Arthur said, returning their smiles. “Is Gaius busy right now?”

“Not too busy,” Lancelot said. “Why, Sire?”

“Er, just need to see him. That’s all.”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed with the company,” Gwen said. She gave her mate a little side-eyed knowing look. Lancelot mirrored her, and the look unnerved Arthur a little.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

Gwen held in a giggle. Lancelot smiled crookedly.

“I think it’s best if you see for yourself.” Lancelot bowed. “By your leave.”

Gwen bowed too, and together she and Lancelot made their way back to their home. Arthur watched them go, eyeing their held hands enviously. A slow, acrid pain built up in his throat and he had to swallow it down before it forced a sob out of him.

He nearly ran to the infirmary. He began to open the door, but then paused. Remembering his manners, he knocked. Whomever was in the room with Gaius might not be decent. He couldn’t let his animalistic urges overrule his head.

“Come in,” he heard Gaius say. As Arthur slowly pushed the door open, he heard rattling and banging noises, as if someone was an absolute klutz and was knocking everything down in his or her wake.

Cautiously, Arthur opened the door wider. The sight that greet him gave him mixed feelings. The look on Merlin’s face was priceless, and it almost made him laugh, but the smell emitting from Merlin took his breath away.

Merlin stuttered and sputtered, as if words were refusing to make themselves useful. It was almost cute. It was as if Merlin tried speaking a foreign language and failed utterly.

“Sire,” Gaius greeted, bowing. He grabbed hold of the back of Merlin’s shirt to keep him from going too far. Merlin looked back and shot Gaius a heated glare.

“Gaius,” Arthur said. His eyes stayed on Merlin. “Well? Aren’t you going to greet me in the proper manner?”

“What manner is that, then?” Merlin automatically said.

“Merlin!” Gaius gasped.

Arthur gestured to Gaius to let him know it was okay. He expected Merlin to be sassy when they’d meet again. Part of him was still annoyed, but the playful side of him was somewhat relieved. He was sure that Merlin’s rudeness was because of nerves, and that this whole recognition thing overwhelmed him.

There was silence for a while as they stared at each other. Arthur could detect the minute quivers running through Merlin’s body. His almost matched Merlin’s. Arthur raised an eyebrow to indicate to Merlin that he should speak, but Merlin remained stubbornly silent.

“We need to talk,” Arthur finally said. His voice was strangely louder than he’d anticipated.

“Okay,” Merlin said, enunciating slowly.

“Right now,” Arthur urged. “This minute.”

“I said okay,” Merlin said. His voice shook slightly, but his stance kept its poise. “Talk, then.”

“Come to my quarters,” Arthur said briskly. “We can talk there.”

“Alone?” Merlin breathed.

“Yes, __Merlin,__ ” Arthur sighed. “Alone, in my quarters, just the two of us.”

“I don’t know if I should be alone with you right now. Sire.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Why is that, my __mate__?”

Merlin shivered. “Because… it isn’t proper?”

“I’ll decide on what’s proper and what isn’t. I’m the prince.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“We must discuss our nuptials as soon as possible. Don’t you know that my father is planning for my betrothal to Princess Mithian? We must act, and we must act now. I will not be forced into a marriage with someone that isn’t my Soulmate.”

Merlin nodded slowly, eyes averted. “Yeah, that is bad.”

Arthur sighed. “Merlin, I won’t tell you again--”

A small, sharp knock on the door interrupted him. Arthur turned to chew the person a new hole, but stopped short when a page poked his head around the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Sire, but the king has summoned you.”

Arthur ground his teeth as he forced himself to calm. By the year’s end, he’d have to make an emergency trip to the royal dentist. “Can’t it wait? I’m really busy.”

“Again, I apologize, Sire,” the page said. “The king said that it’s urgent. Oh, and he also said that he’d like to see Gaius and, er…” The page gestured his head toward Merlin.

“Very well,” Arthur said. “We’ll be right there.”

.-.

The moment they arrived at the throne room, Arthur noticed that Mithian was there, along with Agravaine and a few other royal guests. He recognized King Rodor, King Olaf, Lady Helen, and King Odin. They were all dressed in their finest attires as if preparing for some great occasion.

Gaius was right behind Arthur, followed by Merlin moments later. All royal eyes were upon them the moment they walked in.

“Good, you’re here,” Uther said. “I’ve just been informed of some unfortunate news from Princess Mithian. She told me what’s really been going on, and I must say, Arthur, I am not pleased.”

“Sire, I--”

“Be silent,” Uther ordered. “I don’t like it when certain things are planned behind my back, especially by my own son. But in light of things, and because of our guests’ visit, I have decided that your Chosen Mate should take a test.”

Arthur glowered. “Sire, Merlin isn’t a Chosen Mate, he’s--”

“Gaius,” Uther said, turning to look at the physician. “I want you to prepare a certain elixir that will help us to determine whether this boy is truly pureblooded or not.”

“Sire,” Gaius gasped. “You don’t mean --”

“Make it!” Uther ordered. “We’ll see just how pure this boy’s blood is, or if he’s just a gold digger.”

“He’s my Soulmate!” Arthur huffed.

“Not another word from you, Arthur,” Uther said. “Or I’m putting the boy in the dungeons.”

Arthur nearly drew blood with how hard his bit his bottom lip, but he dare not speak anything more.

Gaius scurried off to do as he was ordered.

Mithian and a few other royals looked nervy and wary about the proceedings. They certainly hadn’t planned for this sort of thing when they arrived. The only one looking somewhat gleeful was Agravaine. He said to Sophia, as if trying to whisper but wasn’t:

“I haven’t seen an Omega convulse and go into fits in a long while. This ought to be entertaining.”

“Hold your tongue, Uncle,” Arthur growled. “Or I’ll remove it all together.”

“He has it bad, Sire. You may have to lock him up instead. It would be for his own good.”

“I’ll decide what to do with my own son, Agravaine. You just remember that you’re only a guest here and not a part of the household.”

Agravaine bowed. “As you wish it, Sire.”

Silence dragged on as if they waited for the Grim Reaper himself to come and cut them to ribbons. Merlin and Arthur occasionally exchanged glances. Arthur slowly edged closer to him as time progressed. They were almost shoulder to shoulder when Gaius returned with a cup filled to the brim with something green and frothing.

Arthur tried to give his father a pleading stare, but Uther ignored him and gestured to Gaius that he should give the drink to Merlin.

“You must drink it, Merlin,” Gaius said. “It’s to prove your pureness of blood.”

Merlin gingerly took the cup from Gaius. He stared into the green liquid, watching the top of the rim froth and bubble, his focus wavered from the cup’s rim to the effervescent, emerald drink.

Arthur shot himself forward toward the king. “Father, please, don’t make Merlin drink this! He wasn’t born royalty, so there’s a good chance he’ll--”

“I thought I told you to be silent, Arthur! I won’t have you tying with some unworthy baseborn tramp just because your hormones are telling you to. If he can survive drinking Absinthe then he may be worthy -- if not as your First mate, then as your concubine. He’d get to live in the castle as part of our household, and he can share your bed every once in a while, but neither he--nor any fruit of his--shall be given all the privileges provided to a royal person.”

“Sire, that’s not --”

“Take it or leave it,” Uther bellowed. “I will not be swayed by your pleas or by any excuse you come up with.”

“But you allowed Morgana to--”

“One more word from you, Arthur, and I’m locking away your Chosen, but for good!”

Arthur grit his teeth, grumbling under his breath: “He’s not __Chosen__ \--”

“Now, proceed, before I lose my patience.”

Gaius gestured urgently for Merlin to drink. Merlin stared down at the foaming drink and finally understood. Absinthe was given to Omegas in order to see just how pure their blood was. The drink was considered very poisonous to anyone else that drank it. Because of the potency of a pureblooded Omega’s blood -- also known as ichor -- it was very difficult to kill an Omega by poison. An Omega’s blood had been used in many ways to kill others, which was illegal. Absinthe shouldn’t harm a True Omega.

But there had been times when an Omega’s blood wasn’t quite pure enough, and they got incredibly ill. If the strickened Omega didn’t receive any sort of antidote, they’d die.

Merlin brought his gaze to Arthur, because he couldn’t stomach looking at anyone else in the throne room, lest he accidentally gave them an angry, incriminating glare. Slowly, and carefully, he tipped the cup towards his lips. His eyes stayed locked with Arthur’s until he had tipped a nice-sized swallow into his mouth.

When the Absinthe hit his tongue he nearly spat it back out, it was so strong. It was a charred bitterness, furry and potent. Two gulps and he felt as if his whole body was in flames. He paused, grimacing.

“Drink it all,” Uther ordered. “Or I shall deem you as false.”

Not wishing to cause any unneeded violence to erupt, Merlin obeyed, choking down the rest of the emerald-green brew.

The room started to spin in a mad swirl of colour. Sparks flashed before his eyes, and he closed them. He felt as though he were floating. A steady hand on his back pushed him upright. He almost tipped forward, but then his feet found firmness. Carefully, he opened his eyes. The room flashed a few moments in many green hues, then subsided into yellow and then white.

He blinked away the last of the alien colours until the world came back into normal focus.

“He’s not convulsing,” Agravaine said. “What a pity.”

“There!” Arthur said. “He survived the test. Now do you believe me when I say that he’s my Soulmate?”

Uther stayed silent for a minute. His look was both annoyed and disappointed.

“That was only the first test,” he said. “His survival only means that he has a uniquely strong stomach.”

“No, it doesn’t, Sire,” Arthur said. “It means he’s a pureblood. Why can’t you see that?”

“Take him back to your chambers, Gaius,” Uther said. “I must decide on the next course of action.”

Gaius bowed and obeyed, dragging a weary Merlin with him.

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Uther cut him off quickly.

“I’m merely doing right by our kingdom, Arthur. Your inner creature may be telling you to mount him, but it isn’t taking into consideration the overall consequences. Even if this boy __is__ your Soulmate, will he know how to run a kingdom, or even a household? Will he understand the sacrifices that must be made in order to keep a kingdom running smoothly?”

“Sire, I’m sure Merlin’s capable of understanding --”

“And what of his pedigree? How many half-bloods and betas are in his bloodline? Not to mention the geldings. And not just that, Arthur, but what of the rumors told of male omegas?”

Arthur gulped, throat dry. “You mean… the possibility that Merlin might have magic?”

“Yes, exactly that! Should we have such a creature as that as your mate? What if he uses his powers against you, against the entire kingdom? You’d have a Major Adamant on your hands, Arthur. Then you know what you’d have to do?”

Arthur swallowed thickly, a lump forming in his throat. “No, father, what--”

“You’d have to have him executed. And I’ve heard that executing one’s own mate can take a terrible blow on one’s mind. You may go insane. Then who would rule Camelot?”

“Well, there’s always Morgana--”

“This is no joke, Arthur! We must consider the future of Camelot, if not for my sake then for yours. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject. You are all dismissed.”

.-.

Arthur desperately wanted to follow Gaius and Merlin, but Princess Mithian took hold of his elbow and steered him to a secluded alcove near a large window. Before bringing his attention to her, he noticed a few dark clouds on the horizon, but they were slowly drifting toward the east.

“I’m sorry, Arthur, I tried my best.”

“Wasn’t your fault, Mithian.”

She smiled. “I’m leaving for Caerleon. I have to keep my appointment with Queen Annis. She’s expecting me.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tonight. My servants are gathering my things now, but I don’t mind hanging out with you for a little while before I go. If there’s anything you’d like to talk with me about, let me know.”

“I don’t know. What is there to say? I really don’t see what could help my situation. My father seems to hate Merlin, but if I don’t tie with Merlin soon…”

“I know,” Mithian said. “Seems hopeless, but I don’t think it is.”

Arthur eyed her critically. “What do you mean?”

She smiled. “I mean that it was hard for him to keep his eyes off you.”

 


	10. Gloaming Thunderhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next part, posted on my b-day. :) It's like a present to you all, and it's also a present to me. Hope you enjoy!

Soulmate 10

 

****Gloaming Thunderhead** ** ****

.-.

 

Lurid, churning dark clouds swirled menacingly within Morgana’s mind. She twisted her head from side to side, breathing harshly. Nightmares continued to stalk her every time she fell asleep, and lately she’d been sleeping often. It had been that way since her collar had been removed. 

The grey-dark clouds would swirl and grow, transforming into a roaring whirlwind. Thunder and lightning pulsed and rumbled, before tossing a wide, bright beam of light up out of the top of the twister and straight toward a full moon. 

Morgana turned over, pressed her face into her pillow. It seemed that her fight with the vision wasn’t producing any headway. Since her magic started pouring back into her, the terrible future that was destined to happen kept haunting her. Leon had tried everything he could to ease her distress, but nothing worked. Having him near did help, if only a little. But Leon wasn’t a Soulmate, so there wasn’t much he could do except maybe comfort her, and maybe provide a shoulder for her to cry on. 

Moaning pitifully, she strained herself from feeling the roiling darkness slowly unfold before her. Grey-black shapes started to form. The bleakness loomed threateningly over Camelot -- namely the castle. As the twister slithered and rose above the citadel, parts of the tallest towers crumbled and floated into the sky. Stone, mortar, wood, and furnishings flew into the air and joined the tornado. Camelot castle was being desecrated bit by bit. 

Perspiration soaked the hair at her temples and on her nape. Sweat glistened at her forehead. She turned over again, fists clenching the bed-sheet hard. The dark shapes looked a bit more human now. She started to recognize Arthur, who attacked random people that got in his way, no matter who they were. She saw Merlin, gasping and holding his throat while he convulsed on the ground. She saw an army of men penetrating Camelot’s defenses, killing all of Camelot’s guards and knights. It didn’t matter that they were seasoned Alpha knights -- the enemy was somehow stronger, and practically unbeatable. 

Her heart slammed into her ribs as the sight before her worsened. Shadows swirled, blood spilled, and many Alphas had suddenly gone into Blood Frenzies. It chilled her to the core. She understood some of what the nightmare was telling her, but the rest was a swirling, ugly mess. The sense of foreboding was, at times, vivid and clear. Other times, the terror was unnamable, and that in itself brought a disgusting acrid taste in her mouth. 

The violent wind from the tornado howled as the thing snaked from one place to another. It finally landed into the lower town, destroying everything in its path. Dark, sinister claws emerged from the twisting mass of clouds and snatched up the citizens, one by one, engulfing them like a hungry serpent. 

Then, out of the thick, cloying clouds she noticed a distant glow. The halo around it formed a glaring rainbow, gleaming in a promising way. It felt out of reach, and as she tried to mentally stretch out a friendly hand to it, the light shrank back as if frightened. 

Morgana tried to radiate kindness, contentment, and protection. The little glow stopped retreating. The terror within it receded, and she tried to coax it closer, but it shied away. When she tried pleading, it almost worked. The light gleamed like a rainbow crystal, sparking brilliantly in the sunlight. She found her voice within her mind’s dreamscape: 

“Save us. Please, save us…” 

The light winked out. 

A wild vortex swallowed her sight and she screamed as she spun out of her dream. 

She awoke in a cold sweat, bed-sheets sticking to her clammy skin. Jerking upright, she gasped for breath, shivering violently. Leon was immediately at her side, holding out a silver goblet. 

“Beloved,” he murmured. “Drink this, please. You’ve lost a lot of water. It is nearly all soaked through your bed sheets and in your nightgown.” 

She took the goblet from him, hand shaking. “You’re still here,” she whispered, voice hoarse. 

“I am,” Leon said. “And I always will be.” 

“How reassuring,” she grumbled. She sipped the water carefully, so as not to spill any. Then she put it on her little nightstand. “I must admit… you’re more stubborn than any adamant omega.” 

“Then we shall be stubborn together.” 

Morgana turned her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m an Adamant?” 

Leon looked away, almost as if he were afraid to look her in the eye. “I don’t know what to classify you as, love. You’re not like any other Omega that I’ve ever met. You’re strong, to be sure, but not in the Alpha sense. You’re wildly independent and sharp of mind, and there isn’t many female omegas that I’ve met that are like that.” 

Morgana’s glare softened. Her gaze was still sharp and scrutinizing, but with a lot less heat. “You’ve met many Omegas, have you?” 

“No!” Leon gasped, alarmed that she’d even think that. “I don’t mean that I would search any out, I just--” 

“I know what you meant, Sir Leon,” Morgana said. A smile began to tug at her lips, but she stopped it from becoming too large. “I know that you’re talking about those that live around here, or the ones that Uther had been parading in front of Arthur.” Her voice became firmer, more cold and chasten. “But just remember that we’re still in the courting stage. I could reject you if I truly wanted to.” 

Leon nibbled at his lower lip, throat burning at the thought of her rejection. “You can’t mean that--” 

“Can’t I?”

Leon bowed his head, as if in defeat. No one else had got him to yield in such a way. He’d even fought in an Alpha Duel and was prepared to die for her, to not yield to his enemy, and yet Morgana could bring him to heel with just a look and a few firmly spoken words. 

“What else do you want from me, beloved?” he murmured, head still bowed. “What must I do to prove myself worthy?” 

Morgana almost snapped at him, but a second later she refrained. A few seconds more, and she decided on something. 

“If you truly and desperately love me…” 

Leon looked up. “Yes, I truly and sincerely do, with all my heart.” 

“Then you’ll get me a bauble of some kind, something with amber on it, some cinnamon sticks, a baneberry pie, ambrosia tarts, honeyed marzipan, and myrrh.” 

“You wish me to fetch all of these things?” Leon frowned. 

“Yes,” Morgana said sternly. “And at once.” 

“But, beloved… how can I get everything? Some are not very easy to procure, even for a knight who lives in a castle.” 

“Well,” she said, refusing to look at him. “I suppose you just don’t want to court me after all.” 

“I do, my love, I really do!” 

“Then get me what I request. Hop to.” 

He stood up and left the room faster than she anticipated. For a moment she almost called him back and told him that it didn’t matter if he didn’t find her everything she had asked for, as long as he got most of the things she craved. Her pride stopped her. Part of her enjoyed stringing Leon along and playing with him like a cat and its prey. Another part of her felt ashamed at what she’d been doing. But she reminded herself that it was for the greater good. She had to have the collar off in order to See her future dreams better, and in order to have her collar off, she had to have a very good excuse. 

Wanting to mate with Sir Leon was the best plan she came up with. The king actually agreed to the match, and to taking her collar off. If it hadn’t been for that slight delay with the Alpha Duel, she might have seen the entire dream by now. 

She could be patient. After all, she’d been patient for the past three years. What was a few more days? 

.-. 

Merlin lay on his bed in his room, feeling boneless and pleasantly numb. His instincts told him to go back to Arthur, but his body had been rendered so weak that he could only blink and stare at the ceiling. 

An unknowable amount of time passed before Gaius walked in. 

“Merlin, sit up. I have something that should help you.” 

Merlin groaned and rolled his head. “Can’t move…” 

“Fine, I’ll help you sit up.” 

Once Merlin was up on some pillows, Gaius handed him a small vial. Merlin tried to hold onto it, but it slipped out of his hands. Gaius snatched it out of the air before it spilled. 

“Okay, looked like I’ll have to help you drink it, too.” 

The elixir was down Merlin’s throat before he knew it. He nearly choked, but the reflexes in his throat made him swallow. He didn’t recognize the taste, but whatever it was it did the trick. He started to feel things again -- his bed, the air moving around him, his body’s position, the cold and clammy sweat on his forehead… 

“Thanks, Gaius,” he sighed. “I think.” 

“In case you’re wondering, I gave you a small dosage of watered-down ambrosia. If you were fit enough, you could’ve handled the pure stuff, but in your weakened state, I didn’t want to take any chances.” 

Merlin nodded. He had heard a few things about ambrosia, and most of it had been fabricated tales to make it sound more mysterious than it probably was. The main description about it nowadays was that it had been first produced eons ago by the gods, and that Man had stolen the recipe so that they could partake in the pleasure of ambrosia too. To many people’s horror, or so the story went, only pure Omegas didn’t go crazy after having ambrosia. Many tales and rumors were born from this. One such rumor was that Omegas were chosen by the gods, which explained why they didn’t go insane after having the ‘fruit of the gods’. The other rumor was just the opposite: that Omegas could handle ambrosia because they had made a pact with the devil. 

“You know, Merlin, you’re very lucky,” Gaius said. He set a bucket of cool water down at his feet, soaked a washcloth in it, and then rung it out. The sound of water splashing into the bucket somehow eased some of the fuzziness in Merlin’s head. 

“How exactly am I lucky?” Merlin said. His tongue felt furry and his throat was scratchy. He smacked his lips. 

Gaius used a corner of the wet cloth to dab at Merlin’s mouth before folding it and placing it onto his forehead. “Because it’s rare for a non-royal person to have lived after drinking Absinthe. Of course, the worse that could’ve happened was that you’d become extremely ill… then you’d die.” 

“How reassuring.” 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to sugarcoat things.” Gaius raised an eyebrow. 

Merlin sighed. “I don’t. But speaking of sugar --” 

“Absolutely not, Merlin. Not after what you’ve just been through. Any kind of sweet thing now might bother your stomach. It’s best if you had some rest first.” 

“Could I at least have a drink of water?” 

“Of course,” Gaius said. He dipped a small cup into the bucket and handed it to Merlin. Merlin’s hands still shook softly, so Gaius helped him drink it. When Merlin finished, Gaius set everything near Merlin’s bed. “I thought about speaking to the king after making sure that you were all right enough to rest. I want to see if I can talk some sense into him. Keeping you and Arthur from even courting isn’t doing either of you any good.” 

“I don’t know,” Merlin said haltingly. “The king might actually be saving me from a terrible match.” 

Gaius clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Uther isn’t saving you, or Arthur, from anything. He’s only making things more difficult than it has to be. Soon enough, Arthur won’t be able to hold back, especially once you go into heat again.” 

“Fuck,” Merlin breathed. 

“And all the suppressants in the world won’t stop him from taking you. He’s your Soulmate, Merlin, and that is something no one can control. The rules about it had been established many years ago. Uther is going against these rules, and it will harm him in the end.” 

“Do you think you’d be able to get through to him?” 

“The possibility isn’t promising,” Gaius said. “But I can’t just sit back and watch things explode either. I need to do something. Will you be okay by yourself for a while, while I go talk to the king?” 

Merlin weakly gestured a hand. “Go ahead, but don’t have too much fun.” 

Gaius snorted at Merlin’s strangeness, putting it down to Merlin’s weak condition. “Just rest a bit, maybe have a nap, and I’ll be back before you know it.” 

The moment Gaius left, Merlin tested out the feeling in his body. His fingers and toes tingled, but in more of a pleasant way than not. His legs were strangely cold, as if they’d been outside in a snowbank. From his hips to his armpits felt hot, like he’d been sunbathing for hours. The rest of him felt normal. As normal as he could possibly get right now. His head still felt weird -- like someone had been hammering his skull into shape and then had stuck it into a furnace. It was heavy like steel, yet wobbly like jelly. 

The part of him that wanted to be close to his Soulmate cried like a wounded animal. He wanted to be with Arthur, and at the same time he was terrified. It wasn’t that he was scared of Arthur himself. It was what the king might do to him, and to Arthur, if they were discovered together. 

He still found Arthur to be a bit arrogant, and maybe somewhat irritating, but Merlin guessed that was because of his upbringing. When they had shared a dream, Merlin was afraid of what he would find. Was Arthur a beast, a monster, both, neither? He was pleasantly surprised to discover that Arthur wasn’t as monstrous as he had feared. He was more like the typical pure-blooded Alpha than the royal kind that he’d heard about. 

Arthur had more heart than most other Alphas he’d seen. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was his Soulmate. Merlin closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. He should sleep, let his body heal, and maybe then the world would quit all this unnecessary madness. 

.-. 

“He could have died!” Arthur fumed madly. He tossed a dagger at the ground and it stuck up straight and halfway into the grassy mound. 

Gelding and Beta servants were scurrying around the courtyard, packing things up for Princess Mithian. The king hadn’t been told yet that she was leaving, and Arthur couldn’t blame her for not wanting to speak to him about it. 

Another dagger, this one slimmer and longer, joined Arthur’s dagger. It vibrated in the air a few seconds as it settled. 

“You underestimate the strength of us Omegas,” Mithian said. “The defense of our bodies is truly miraculous. We’ve been blessed with a powerful immunity.” 

“He still could have got incredibly ill. An ague could have killed him.” 

“You shouldn’t dwell on what __could__ have happened. You should plan what to do next, such as how to woo him, how to treat him and show him tenderness and love.” 

Arthur threw another dagger harshly at the ground. It stuck in sideways. “If my father will even allow me to woo him. I sense he’s planning, still, on how to get me a female Omega Princess. He doesn’t care for my feelings in this. All he cares about is his pride, and how others will judge him and our kingdom. My happiness seems to mean nothing to him.” 

Mithian hummed. “He does seem to have his priorities aimed in the wrong direction. He’s looking at the larger picture within his own world. He’s not considering the details of his actions, or what will happen in the future.” She flicked her throwing hand and another slim dagger stuck up straight in the ground beside the others. 

“If he’s not careful, he’ll find my sword at his neck.” He flung his last dagger. It missed the mound completely and smacked into a tree stump. The dagger twanged as it hit and flopped to the grass. 

Mithian pressed her lips tightly. “You don’t want to start your reign on a regicide. It’d spell disaster for the kingdom.” 

She neatly threw her last stiletto, and it stuck right beside the other so that now she had all her daggers in a straight and even row. 

“I’ll just maim him, then,” Arthur said. He stood up and stretched. “Which body part should I chop off first?” 

Mithian laughed nervously. “I don’t think you should discuss such things with me, Arthur. I don’t wish to be a part of your plans to mutilate your father.” 

“I suppose you’re right. I shouldn’t discuss such gruesome things with one who has such delicate ears.” 

“Delicate?” she huffed. Mithian picked up her skirts and marched to the grassy mound they’ve been using as a target. She swiftly plucked up her daggers and gathered them into one hand. She brandished them toward Arthur as if declaring a Duel. “You really think I’m delicate?” 

“Er… I suppose I used the wrong word.” 

“You would suppose right. Just because someone is an Omega doesn’t mean they’re weak. That is the problem some of you Alphas seem to have. The sooner you realize that Omegas are just as tough as Alphas, the better off you will be.” 

“I apologize if I had upset you, Mithian. I merely meant that I shouldn’t discuss harming my father in front of you, as you had suggested. I also meant that you’re royalty. I didn’t mean to suggest that it’s because you’re an Omega.” 

Mithian’s features softened considerably. “I see. Well, I’m not a typical Omega princess either.” 

“So I’ve gathered.” 

Mithian smiled. “I should get ready to leave now. I’m hoping that when I encounter Queen Annis it will be a very rewarding encounter.” 

“She’s really a female Alpha?” Arthur said. He still couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known about it a lot sooner. “And you think you’ll click with her?” 

“Yes. You see, her mate had died three years ago, and it’s taken her some time to recover. Luckily, he wasn’t her Soulmate. If he had been, his death might have killed her.” 

“Do you think maybe you’re her Soulmate?” 

Mithian shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t rightly know. I’ve never felt any sort of strong tug or anything. Then again, neither of us have magic. Either way, I’m excited to meet her.” 

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, then. Wouldn’t you want a farewell feast? The king will get powerfully upset if we don’t follow protocol.” 

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not. But I thank you for the offer, Arthur.” 

As they walked back inside from the courtyard, they noticed Agravaine pulling along his gelding by the hair. Daegal made a small, whimpering noise but otherwise said nothing and didn’t fight back. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Arthur demanded. “Uncle, what has this boy done?” 

“It’s none of your concern, Prince Arthur. He’s __my__ Gelding and my property. I can do what I like.” 

“You shouldn’t treat your servants in such an abominable manner.” 

“Servant?” Agravaine said. “Ha! The boy isn’t a servant.” He gave Daegal a good shake. “This boy -- thing -- is my Cicisbeo!” 

Arthur’s jaw nearly dropped. “He’s your -- Daegal’s a -- you’re joking, Uncle.” 

“Why would I joke about this?” 

“But you’re not… you can’t be attracted to men, no matter what their bloodline.” 

“This?” Agravaine said, snorting softly. He shook Daegal again. “This is a Gelding. Neither male or female. This boy -- this gelding is no more than a bed-warmer.” 

“It’s clear to me that Daegal is -- was -- a boy, and would be considered a man, now, whether he still has his seed or not. That’s why I’m shocked to discover that he’s part of your harem.” 

“Only just. I don’t consider him as one of my harem. He brings me some pleasure, of course, but he -- this gelding -- is mainly a pollard. Other royalty have such Geldings, so why can’t I? Oh, do be silent, you sniveling dandiprat!” Agravaine casually flung Daegal into a nearby stone wall. Daegal gasped and then collapsed and curled himself into a ball. “You’re nothing but a gaudy fandangle, you retch.” 

“Hey, now, that’s quite enough!” Mithian said. She crouched down and laid a gentle hand on the boy. “Take some care, my lord, you’ll injure the boy something awful, then he’ll be of no use to you at all.” 

“The retch is fine,” Agravaine said. He readjusted his shirt as if he had just gotten manhandled. “Just trying to gain some sympathy.” 

“I’ll have you know, Uncle, that abusing one’s mate -- or servant, or whatever -- isn’t permitted in Camelot. I suggest you withhold your abusive impulses until you return to your own lands.” 

Agravaine’s mouth twitched, as if he was about to retort, but then he smirked and bowed slightly. “As you wish it, Sire.” 

Mithian checked Daegal over, but he seemed only winded and had a couple scrapes from catching himself on the wall. She helped him onto unsteady legs. He wobbled a bit before he could finally stand up right. She then whispered to him: “If you ever wish to sever ties with Agravaine, you let me know posthaste. I’ll retrieve you at once. Then you may become a part of MY harem.” 

She smiled at the minute shock emitting from his face. Then he smiled back, but his eyes were still filled with unknowable agony. 

“That’s very kind of you, my lady,” he whispered back, voice a pleasant high tone, “but I doubt that I --” 

“What have I told you about speaking to those higher born than you?” Agravaine said. He jerked Daegal away from Mithian. “Now, come! Time for you to feed me.” Reluctantly, almost as if a second thought, he bowed to Arthur and Mithian. “By your leave, your majesties.” He then towed Daegal all the way to his guest chambers, and none too gently. 

“The poor boy,” Mithian said. “I do hope he can one day escape Agravaine’s oppressive hand.” 

“Yes, I’d have to agree with you. He’s not very gentle with the gelding.” 

“It’s a good thing you don’t abuse your gelding in such a way.” 

Arthur felt his blood heat up in his face and the back of his neck. He rubbed his nape, shame filling his belly. “Yes… a good thing.” 

.-. 

It was lucky for Gaius that the king wasn’t too busy. He had just finished overseeing the last of the preparations for the feast and was about to call on the servants to begin things. 

“Sire,” Gaius said, bowing. “I was wondering if I could speak to you.” 

“Of course you may, Gaius,” Uther said. “You’re a dear friend and adviser. You may speak to me about anything.” 

“Thank you, my lord. You see,” Gaius began, taking a deep breath, “it’s about Prince Arthur--” 

“What about my son?” Uther said, his demeanor changing considerably from noble to worried parent. 

“I fear, Sire, that you’re doing him a disservice.” 

“Nonsense,” Uther huffed. “I know what’s best for him and for the continuation of our great kingdom.” 

“I know that you’re trying to do the right thing, Sire, but I think not allowing Arthur to be with his Soulmate will affect the kingdom badly.” 

“I will not have Arthur tie himself with some male Omega that has no noble bloodline and nothing to enhance our kingdom.” 

“But, Sire, it’s urgent that--” 

“I will not have him fettered to a Vivienne!” 

The king’s loud confession stopped Gaius from further argument. He stared at Uther, suddenly realizing what had been going on this whole time underneath the very surface of Uther’s being. 

“Sire, I understand your grief, but you can’t keep Arthur from his rightful Soulmate. Do you know what will happen to them -- to Arthur -- if you don’t let them tie?” 

“I won’t have Arthur led down the path that I was almost led down. His soul will get crushed, just as mine did.” 

“You don’t know that, Sire. Merlin is a completely different person than Vivienne. He won’t--” 

“If he’s a male Omega, there’s a very good chance he has magic. I must find out for sure, Gaius. I must test him further.” 

“...But the only way to test if someone has magic is to use magic.” 

“No, Gaius,” Uther said. The corner of his mouth quirked. “I know of someone that could help determine whether he has magic or not.” 

Gaius stared at his king for a moment, not fully understanding what he was talking about. But then the strange gleam in Uther’s eyes made him realize what was going on through his king’s mind. 

“Sire, you can’t.” 

“Can’t I?” 

“Not the Witchfinder, Sire! You can’t have him come to Camelot.” 

“And why not?” Uther demanded. 

“For one thing, Sire, Aredian has a way of forcing others to admit to things that aren’t true. He gets false confessions from people using torture.” 

Uther stared. “And how do you know of this?”

Gaius took a steadying breath. “Because, Sire… I’m no stranger to his performances. I’ve seen him get people to admit to things that hold no truth. Not only would Aredian get Merlin to say that he has magic, but he might get other innocent people accused. It wouldn’t be right, and you’d subjugate your people to horrible torture.” 

“How else am I to discover if the boy has magic or not? You know as well as I do that many male omegas have magic. If I let Arthur tie himself to such a person…” 

Gaius nodded, trying to look sympathetic. “I understand your plight, Sire, but you must remember that you cannot stop Recognized peoples from tying. There’s a good reason as to why Merlin is Arthur’s Soulmate, and you must allow for it to happen.” 

“My son shouldn’t be fettered to someone he doesn’t love. He should find a happy ending with a beautiful princess. That’s what is right.” 

Gaius quietly sighed as he racked his brains trying to figure out how to convince the king to accept Merlin as Arthur’s mate. Was it the fact that Uther wasn’t a fan of magic, or was it because he thought that Arthur could end up in a loveless relationship? 

Or, perhaps, it was both. 

.-. 

Merlin still felt a little woozy, but he could at least sit up in bed. The aftereffects of the Absinthe still lingered in his veins, but his poisonous blood -- ichor -- was stronger and so the ill-effects that would have happened to anyone else only caused him to feel a little punch drunk. 

He hated being this weak and vulnerable. That could be why intimacy with a dominant Alpha scared him a little. Merlin hoped for some kind of equality with his mate, but since Arthur was a prince, and a stuck-up prat, he’d probably have to yield constantly to him. 

If Arthur wanted to keep him as his mate, he better be prepared for a few quarrels. He wasn’t about to just bow down and let Arthur do whatever he wanted, even if he was stronger physically. Merlin had power in another way, but he dare not use it now. In fact, he wasn’t too sure when he should let Arthur know. Arthur would definitely catch a clue when Merlin went into heat next. 

Male Omegas that __didn’t__ have magic normally had a fully functioning female part, which was where the Alpha’s cock went and where the baby came out. 

But male Omegas that __had__ magic didn’t have anything female about them. Their arses were self-lubricating, they had a channel inside that went straight to a womb, and the baby came out the same place the Alpha’s cock went in. Magic helped in that department, thank goddess. Otherwise, Merlin would beg the midwife to knock him out and just yank the kid out of his stomach. 

And if he already thought about having a baby with Arthur Pendragon, that wasn’t good. Bloody hormones. 

“I better not be going into heat already,” Merlin mumbled to himself. “I should have at least another two weeks. I think.” 

He jumped when there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Merlin, may I come in?” Gaius asked. 

“Yeah, come in.” 

Gaius shuffled in slowly, taking his time shutting the door behind him, and then stopped about halfway into the room. “Merlin, are you feeling any better?” 

“A little, yeah, but not completely. What’s up, Gaius?” 

“Well, I talked to the king, and I have some good news and some bad. The good news is that I talked Uther out of sending for the Witchfinder.” 

Merlin gasped. “The Witchfinder! Blimey, if you hadn’t convinced the king not to send for him…” 

“Exactly. It would become much more chaotic and confusing, especially with the other highborns here.” 

Merlin nodded in agreement. “So what’s the bad news?” 

“I couldn’t convince him to allow Arthur to court you.” 

Merlin sighed and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I figured as much. I don’t know whether to be glad or not.” 

“Don’t be. You are Arthur’s Soulmate. The king has no legal right to keep you two apart. If he doesn’t let you two court, and then tie, it won’t be pleasant for either of you. And Uther might have to bury his son.” 

Merlin’s head shot up. “Bury him?” 

“I’ve heard that if Soulmates don’t get to tie within a certain amount of time after the heat starts, things could get bad. Arthur could kill himself, and then you might die after he dies. Or Arthur could go on a killing frenzy first and then kill himself.” 

“Shite,” Merlin whispered. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Gaius said. 

“Then why is he doing this to us? I don’t understand.” 

It was a while before Gaius spoke, and when he did, his voice was in a sad half-whisper. “He’s afraid that Arthur will go through the same pain that he did.” 

“What pain?” 

Gaius walked over and sat on the edge of Merlin’s bed. “If I recall correctly, Uther had recognized someone else’s mate.” 

Merlin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh? But--” 

“I think they were Soulmates.” 

“Bloody hell.” 

“It was Morgana’s real mother, Vivienne. Vivienne’s chosen mate Gorlois was a good friend of Uther’s.” 

“I think I can see where this is going.” 

Gaius nodded remorsefully. “They had little choice. Uther actually didn’t fight his urges and one night he snuck into Vivienne’s room while Gorlois was off hunting and… well, they stayed tied for one day.” 

“Didn’t Gorlois catch them?” 

“Oddly, no. They had just separated -- dismounted -- when Gorlois returned from hunting. It was a good thing that Gorlois had taken his time in the hunt and getting back, otherwise he probably would have challenged Uther to an Alpha Duel.” 

“But couldn’t he smell him on her?” 

“I don’t recall everything, but I’m guessing that Vivienne used a potion or ointment or something like it to remove Uther’s smell. She was a witch, after all.” 

Slowly, it all started to come together in Merlin’s mind. “I think I understand now. Because he has a hunch that I might have magic, like Vivienne did, he thinks that Arthur will go through the same thing. But I still don’t understand how that could have bothered Uther.” 

“Because he couldn’t be with his Soulmate after that,” Gaius explained. “He had to fight off the urge to stay with her. And after Morgana was born, Uther looked to be in a lot of pain, like he was struggling not to go to her.” 

“That’s awful.” 

“But Uther soon found true love with Ygraine. She wasn’t a Soulmate, of course, so it was a little tough for them to produce a child.” 

“But they had Arthur, didn’t they?” 

“Yes, but with the court sorceress’s help. Uther and Ygraine didn’t click when they tried to tie. Nothing happened, really.” Gaius ran a hand over his face. “I really shouldn’t be telling you all this, but it’s the only way for you to understand.” 

“I swear I won’t tell anyone else.” 

Gaius nodded, pleased. “Good. So, anyway, Nimueh helped them to tie by using her magic. And thus, Arthur was conceived and born.” 

“Does Morgana know about any of this?” 

Gaius shrugged. “I couldn’t say. But whether she does or doesn’t isn’t the main problem right now. We’ve got to figure out how to make Uther agree to let Arthur and you tie.” 

Merlin wasn’t sure what made him say it, but he figured that it must be because he was still groggy from the Absinthe. “Um, isn’t there a way that Arthur and I could tie without the king knowing?” 

“That would be impossible. Prince Arthur has duties to do every day. If he doesn’t show up to any of them, they’d send a search party. The king might even order you killed or arrested, thinking that you’ve gone and forced Arthur to tie with you.” 

Merlin sighed and closed his eyes. “This isn’t looking good for us, is it?” 

“Maybe,” Gaius said. “But maybe things are happening the way they’re supposed to happen.” 

Merlin just nodded, too worn-out to really say much more. He felt too exhausted to continue with their conversation, even if he had other questions he wanted answered. He wasn’t sure if what was happening was supposed to happen, but he did know that whatever did happen would change things in Camelot, perhaps for good. 

.-. 

After Arthur had bidden Princess Mithian goodbye, and wished her luck with Queen Annis, he had an overwhelming urge to visit the infirmary. 

He hesitated for a minute or two. First he began to head toward his own chambers, but then his feet started to bring him toward the infirmary. He forced himself to stop, and it took a while to turn around and go back toward his chambers. When he found he started walking toward the infirmary again, he snarled out loud and immediately sat on the floor, back to the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and brought his knees up to his stomach. 

Ten minutes later, Gwaine found him still sitting in that position. When Arthur didn’t respond to anything he did, Gwaine joined Arthur on the floor and mimicked his pose. 

“What do you want?” Arthur grumbled a minute later. 

“Thank all the gods above,” Gwaine replied. “You’re still alive.” 

“Of course I’m alive,” Arthur nearly snapped. “Why are you here?” 

“Mind you,” Gwaine said slowly, “I’m not sure either, but Elena and I have realized that you’re doing rather poorly of late.” 

Arthur snorted. “I’m not, thank you, Sir Gwaine.” 

“You can’t lie to us, Sire. I know -- well, Elena knows that you haven’t been your loving, cheerful self. We both know why that is.” 

“Go away, Gwaine,” Arthur snarled. 

“It has nothing to do with your father, does it?” Gwaine relented. “It’s--” 

“Shut it,” Arthur warned. 

Gwaine obeyed, but only for a minute. “It has everything to do with--” 

“Shut up!” 

“--that man of yours,” Gwaine said stubbornly. “Your beloved Omega, that sweet smelling Soulmate… Merlin.” 

Arthur swung an arm savagely round and pinned Gwaine roughly to the stone wall. “What did I tell you?” he snarled, voice deep and menacing. His eyes seem to glow brightly and his scent radiated of a murderous acrid aftertaste that made Gwaine’s nose wrinkle. 

Gwaine tried to choke out an answer, but Arthur’s grip around his windpipe was too strong. Arthur noticed that Gwaine had begun to turn blue, so he loosened his hold. Gwaine gasped as if he’d been drowning. 

“Don’t say his name,” Arthur explained, which was the best apology Gwaine was going to get. “I don’t want to hear another alpha using his name, or speaking about him at all. Just leave.” 

“But--” Gwaine coughed, “--I was only trying to--” 

“I don’t care,” Arthur snapped. He roughly released Gwaine’s throat and leaned back against the wall with a huff. “Let me wallow in my pain alone. You don’t understand--” 

“On the contrary, my dear Arthur,” Gwaine said, rubbing his throat, “I do understand. You forget, I’m in the middle of courting Princess Elena. I have the same duties you do in procuring her hand in marriage.” 

Arthur sadly shook his head against wall. “What you’re doing isn’t the same. You two just ‘click’. Merlin -- he and I are Soulmates. Our pain is extraordinary. No one else is going through the hardship and torture that I--we--am, are… you know what I mean!” 

“You might be correct in that,” Gwaine said, careful not to enrage his prince again. “And yet, you might be mistaken. The deal with two souls finding each other is always a hardship of some kind. But I’m not here to argue semantics. I feel a flagrant and most potent pull toward my mate as well, but we’ve been brought up to observe the courtships and rituals that aid us in obtaining what we most urgently desire. That is what you should concentrate on right now, Sire. You should do as your heart and soul is asking and court him.” 

As the words sank in, Arthur slowly turned his head and stared at Gwaine. This was a side of the rambunctious knight he hadn’t seen before, and he most certainly hadn’t heard such words come out of Gwaine before either. 

Presently, Arthur said, “Are you trying to tell me something, Sir Gwaine?” 

“I’m not trying to tell you your business, Sire,” Gwaine urgently stated. “I’m merely trying to give you some sound advice.” 

The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked, almost into a half-smile. “Advice? From you?” 

“I know,” Gwaine said, mouth pulled into a huge grin. “The world’s gone completely insane, huh? You recognize a male omega that may or may not have magic -- or a cunt. I recognize a princess who is lovely in every way, even if she is a bit clumsy. And Lady Morgana accepts Leon as her mate and has her collar removed. Things are definitely looking apocalyptic.” 

Arthur accidentally let out a half-laugh. He immediately returned to looking regal and proud. “If I follow your advice, what does that say about me?” 

“Well, for one, that you’re a good listener, and that you take other people’s opinions into consideration.” 

“You don’t think it makes me look simple-minded or idiotic?” 

“Perish the thought, Sire! I’d say that it makes you very open-minded, and not at all like your father, which is to say why I wanted to become one of your men in the first place.” 

Arthur swiveled his head around, stared at Gwaine strangely. 

“What?” Gwaine said. “You didn’t think I took the knighthood because I’m loyal to Uther, do you?” 

Arthur looked away, face heating up. “It was definitely not because you like the title.” 

“Oh, to be sure. You know as well as I that titles mean diddly shit to me. That’s why I find it so funny that I went and clicked with a princess. And you go and Recognize a commoner. Then again, our bodies and souls don’t care about titles either. The whole title ordeal was invented by men. What matters to our bodies is that we find someone that will help give us healthy children, and that those children grow up to become strong themselves. Don’t you agree?” 

“Will you stop making sense?” Arthur grumbled. “You’re scaring me.” 

Gwaine chuckled. “But seriously, Sire, you should find out what Merlin likes as gifts. Maybe ask Gaius. I’m sure he’ll have some ideas.” 

Arthur sat there a while, contemplating whether he should chance it. If the king found out that he’d been courting Merlin, who knew what Uther would do. 

Then again, it wasn’t any of Uther’s business. Uther had no right to dictate just whom Arthur ended up with. Merlin was his Soulmate, damn it, and he needed to start courting him, particularly before Merlin went into heat! 

Arthur stood up so swiftly it made Gwaine jump in shock. “You know what, Gwaine? You may be right. Uther has no say in my Mating Rights. He’s wrong in assuming he can tell me who I can and can’t tie with and, goddamn it, my soul is craving Merlin -- and that is who I’m going to court!” 

“Then waste no more time, Sire,” Gwaine urged. “Go get that boy of yours!” 

.-. 

Arthur decided to take Gwaine’s advice, and went directly to the infirmary. He knew that Merlin was still recovering from the effects from the horrendous hellbroth, but he hoped he could at least speak to him. 

He knocked briefly before entering. Gaius’s mouth was hanging halfway open as if he were about to respond. Arthur smiled apologetically, knowing that he should have waited until he’d been allowed in. His hormones were telling him otherwise. 

“Good afternoon, Sire,” Gaius said. 

“Afternoon, Gaius.” Arthur tilted his head up and his nostrils flared. The window was partially open and a small, sweet breeze wafted in. It was no wonder why Gaius had the window cracked open. The room stifled with an intense heat. The slight wind from outside made the flame underneath a beaker to flicker and dance. Although the coolness of the air from outside helped ease his rutting needs, the smell emitting from the door on the other side of the room teased his senses. 

“What can I do for you?” Gaius said. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought off a smile. He knew very well what Arthur was there for. 

“I, uh, was wondering about Merlin’s condition. Is he getting any better?” 

“He’s healing well enough,” Gaius said. 

A musky rose scent assaulted Arthur’s nose and tickled the back of his throat. “Is he… asleep?” 

“He’s resting, yes.” 

Arthur took a few steps toward the door, paused. “It’s a miracle that he isn’t dead, or suffering from an ague.” 

“Well, Sire, he is your Soulmate, after all. That must mean that he’s made of sterner stuff.” 

Arthur suddenly found himself facing Merlin’s bedroom door. A hand was on it, as if he were about to push it open. Gaius grabbed Arthur’s shoulder and stopped him from going any further. 

“Sire, it would be best if you let Merlin sleep. His body has been through a lot and there’s no telling what will happen if he sees or smells you--” 

Arthur shrugged Gaius’ hand off his shoulder and swiftly entered Merlin’s room. 

The odor coming from Merlin hit Arthur so hard his head snapped back. He took a tentative step backward, stopped, waited a moment to get his bearings, and took a half-step forward. 

“Sire--” Gaius pleaded. He tried to grab Arthur’s arm again, but Arthur stood solid and firm, didn’t budge an inch. 

“Release me, Gaius,” Arthur ordered. His voice sounded hoarse and wrecked beyond compare. 

Gaius released him, but didn’t leave the room, afraid of what Arthur would do. 

Arthur drank in his fill of the vision before him. Merlin lay asleep on his cot, blanket crooked and limbs splayed pell-mell on the mattress. As Arthur’s gaze ran slowly down Merlin’s body, it came to an abrupt halt on a bare bit of skin. The greyish socks didn’t seem to fit Merlin’s feet well and they were crumpled close to the heel. One foot hung nearly off the bed entirely, blanket risen up along with Merlin’s sleep trousers. 

The ankle lain bare. That wink of skin from under the blanket numbed his mind and stirred up his instincts. Arthur was completely mesmerized by the tiny expanse of skin. His mind raced with ideas on what he’d do to that lovely ankle. 

As his imagination grew deeper, Arthur realized that what he really wanted to do was adorn that ankle. He wanted to bejewel the skin with baubles, silvery trinkets, brilliant gemstones, precious metals, and jingling bells. That alabaster skin cried for ornaments, and Arthur wanted to make it true. He wanted to tenderly grasp his foot, kiss that smooth arch, and decorate those toes with rings and perfume them in rose water. After worshiping his Omega’s foot and toes and ankle, he’d work his way up the calf. He wanted to explore on, to travel up and up, until his face was buried in the apex of Merlin’s thighs. 

As he moved forward, he realized he wasn’t getting any closer. He struggled with the thing that kept him from his Omega, but then something was thrown over his mouth and nose and his senses suddenly shut down. He was pulled away and out the door. 

The moment he was out of Merlin’s room and standing in the middle of the infirmary, Gaius released him. The air became clear again. Arthur spun around and shot a blazing hot look at Gaius. 

“What the hell--” 

“Forgive me, Sire, but you looked as if you were about to pounce on Merlin, and we can’t have that.” Arthur saw a white piece of cloth in Gaius’s hand. It looked wet with some sort of potion. 

Arthur’s glare deepened. “And why not?” 

“For one thing, Sire, Merlin is still recovering from drinking Absinthe, so there’s no way he’d be able to resist you.” 

“Sounds like a fortuitous event, actually--” 

“Secondly--my lord--you must follow protocol. You need to go through with the courting first. That is, once the king agrees.” 

“He has no say!” 

“I concur, Sire; he doesn’t. Still, I’m afraid the king isn’t budging on the issue--” 

“If he doesn’t do any sort of budging, he’s in for a very rude awakening. And after that, his head shall be severed from his stiff neck!” 

Arthur turned to leave, but Gaius grabbed his shoulder. 

“Sire, wait! I suggest that you go along with the courting.” 

Arthur stared, not sure he heard that correctly. “Gaius, are you suggesting that I court Merlin without my father’s consent?” 

Gaius looked away as if suddenly finding the racks of elixirs and antidotes more fascinating. “I’m merely suggesting that you follow your internal instinct, and forget about trying to please your father.” 

Arthur stared at the floor, biting his lower lip until rubbed raw. “But… if he finds out --” 

“He has no say, Sire. Even kings must bow before the natural instinct to claim one’s mate. He knows this well enough, as any royal pure-blooded Alpha would know. He’s just being overprotective, and a bit -- I’m sorry to say -- pigheaded.” 

“But once Merlin and I finally mount, and tie -- then what?” 

“He has no moral right to stop you. If he tries, your protection instincts will override any other rational thought, and you may end up killing him. Uther __knows__ Â this! And yet, he persists that you don’t follow your instincts.” 

Arthur bowed his head, but not in any kind of submission. “He must be disappointed in me.” 

“You shouldn’t let others’ feelings come into any of this. This thing, your Mating Right, it’s between you and Merlin. No one else has the right to say otherwise.” 

“Well, maybe--” 

“Incidentally, Sire -- I’d suggest amber.” 

Arthur looked up and stared at Gaius peculiarly. “Amber?” 

“As your first gift to Merlin. I’ve known for some time that male Omegas love receiving amber as a gift.” 

“Oh… thanks, Gaius.” 

It took a long while before Arthur could move again, but as he made his way back to his rooms, he remembered that amber was known to have many magical and healing properties. Was Gaius trying to hint at something? 


	11. Deluged Downfall

Soulmate 11

****Deluged Downfall** **

****

Uther’s summons couldn’t have come at a worse time. Arthur’s been delayed much too often, and it began to grate.

On his way to the throne room, he couldn’t help notice that the servants hadn’t taken down any of the decorations for the feast. In fact, they continued with their work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Didn’t Princess Mithian tell the king she left?

The moment he entered the throne room and was halfway to the front, Uther berated him:

“Why was I not informed about Princess Mithian’s departure?”

That was what Arthur had just been wondering.

“My apologies, Sire, but I didn’t know that she didn’t tell you. I thought for sure that she would.”

“The feast is just about to begin. We can’t cancel now!”

“I don’t know what to say, Sire.”

“I may have a solution, your majesties,” Agravaine said. Arthur turned his head in surprise. He didn’t know that his Uncle was here too.

“By all means, let’s hear this miraculous solution to my plight, Lord Agravaine.”

“Well, Sire, you could throw the feast in my honor.”

Uther stared. “Throw __you__ a feast? For what reason should I give at the opening toast, then?”

“For coming here, for one. Another reason could be to congratulate me on my newest concubine. She’s not with me because she’s resting after our long mating session. The feast could also be in my honor for keeping the western borders safe from Cenred’s army.”

“You did that, did you?” Arthur said, eyes narrowed.

“Indeed I did, Sire.”

“Strange,” Arthur said. “I was told that MY men stopped that invasion. Are you sure it was the western border?”

Agravaine hesitated. “Well… perhaps I got my directions confused. But I did stop an invading force from entering our lands.”

“Was it Cenred’s men?” Uther asked, also looking suspicious at Agravaine.

“Er, I don’t recall. May have only been some ruffians or mercenaries or bandits, perhaps.”

Arthur and Uther exchanged a significant look. Understanding passed between the two. Arthur nodded to show that he knew the unspoken suggestion. He was to have their own men investigate the borders at the west, and maybe even the east.

“I suppose since everyone is already here, I may as well have the feast continue.” Uther paused. He looked deep in thought.

“Father,” Arthur said, keeping an even tone. “Perhaps the feast could represent the meeting of my Soulmate--”

“Absolutely not! I won’t have our royal guests thinking that you’ll end up with that boy as your First Mate.”

“He’ll be my only mate, Sire.”

Uther narrowed his eyes and turned away. He addressed his gelding servant: “Tell Cook and everyone else to get the feast prepared. Not a word to anyone about what you just overheard.”

“Yes, Sire,” Uther’s gelding said. He bowed humbly and scurried off to do as ordered.

“I’ll get myself prepared too, then,” Agravaine said. He turned and briskly left the room.

Uther gave Arthur one swift glance full of warning and then also left the throne room.

Arthur was irritated by his father’s continued dismissal of his Soulmate. His head wasn’t any better than before, even after playing a bit of mumbletypeg with Mithian.

He was going to take Gaius’s advice. With strong, determined strides, Arthur entered his chambers and went straight to his wardrobe. Without hesitation, Arthur donned his dark blue cloak, hood up, grabbed his satchel full of gold and marched out the door.

He had some shopping to do.

.-.

Merlin rolled over, groaning. He tucked himself tightly into a ball, arms hugging his knees close to his chest and head down. A shearing ache pounded through him, reverberating inside his skull.

It was strange to be going through all this. The last time he felt even remotely like this was when Arthur had been near.

But there was no way Arthur had been near him now. If he had been even a yard away, Merlin was sure the prince would have pounced on him.

Familiar sounds from Gaius’s workroom filled his ears. That sparked a thought that maybe Arthur really had been there but Gaius had stopped him. It would be something the old physician would do, considering Merlin’s weakened condition.

But when he stretched out his body, he could no longer feel any of the burning effects of the Absinthe. The only soreness he had, now, was the needy ache of wanting his Soulmate. He tested his limbs before he tried to sit up. His head swam, but he fought the sensation and stood from bed. He was like a newborn colt, wobbly and unbalanced.

He finally made his way out his bedroom door and toward Gaius’s work table. There was a plate in his usual eating spot filled with all sorts of delicacies that he loved, including marzipan and pokeweed. He sat heavily in front of the plate and ate without a word. Gaius glanced up from his work, noticed Merlin, did a quick medical scan of him with only his eyes, and then returned to his work.

“Rested, are we?” Gaius said.

Merlin hummed around a mouthful of food.

“You still look pale. Are you sure you should be out of bed?”

“It’s not the Absinthe,” Merlin said after swallowing. “It’s… um, Gaius? Did Arthur come over while I was out of it?”

“Yes,” Gaius said slowly. “I wasn’t sure whether to tell you when you woke.”

“That’s why I feel so miserable and my head’s all muzzy.”

Gaius stared in concern. “Are you feeling feverish?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m trying to deduce something. Are you arid or incredibly thirsty?”

“Not horribly, but I wouldn’t mind some honeyed mead.”

Gaius’s face immediately changed from worried to relieved. “That’s good news.”

“Did you think I have some backlash from the Absinthe?”

“No. My concern was your body’s reaction to Arthur’s sudden nearness. Some Omegas go into heat before their time when they meet their Intended.”

Merlin snorted. “Trust me, that won’t happen.”

“You can’t be sure, Merlin. Your bond with Arthur is strong -- stronger than I’ve seen between Soulmates. I’ve been preparing elixirs and other relaxants in case something does end up happening. Everything you’ve told me, and everything I’ve observed so far, is telling me that you two will have a powerful and unfathomable tie. Once it begins, there’s no telling how long you two will stay connected.”

A churning heat in Merlin’s belly rose up his chest, strangled his throat, and burst through his cheeks. He rubbed his hands over his face to try to halt the overwhelming sting. He racked his brain to come up with a different subject.

“Gwen had mentioned… I mean, I think I need a nest, or some sort of snuggery.”

“It’s up to the Omega when to build a nest. Some -- or I should say, most -- don’t have a nest until they’re pregnant. Some will make a nest right before they go into heat. So, I suppose you could make one if you really wanted to -- but here’s the thing, Merlin: you’d have to make your nest in __Arthur’s__  chambers.”

Merlin lowered his head, face bright crimson. “That… that would mean … accepting…”

“Yes,” Gaius said gently. He patted Merlin’s shoulder. “You’d have to accept Arthur. But you should wait.” He removed his hand from Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin looked up. “Wait?”

Gaius winked, and it was almost wicked. “He’s going to court you.”

Merlin hid his face in his hands. “Oh, shite,” he murmured.

.-.

The air was sweet all around him, and yet a stronger, more ambrosial scent beckoned him to go back to the castle.

Arthur pulled his cloak around him tighter and lengthened his strides. He painfully resisted the pull he felt and kept walking. By the time he arrived at the merchant’s stand, he quivered from head to toe. He had to keep from rubbing his arms and force himself from shaking apart.

He knew this particular merchant from word of mouth only. The man claimed to be called Duncan, but others had said that the merchant’s real name was Paul. Arthur didn’t know which was true.

“How can I be of service, sir?” the merchant said.

Arthur kept his hood down over half his face and his head bowed. He eyeballed all the items on display. There were rings, bracelets, necklaces, belts, and all sorts of different baubles and bangles. Some had diamonds, some emeralds, and some even had quartz crystals. There were stones of all types, too, including lodestones, fire opals, toadstones, and lapis lazuli. Arthur had even spotted what looked to be a pentacle.

Hoping he was inconspicuous enough, Arthur snaked a hand from beneath the folds of his cloak and pointed to a silver ringlet that had caught his eye. He cleared his throat, more out of testing his baritone than to remove any phlegm. He deepened his voice to disguise it:

“How much is it?”

“This, sir, is a real beauty of a bauble. Your Omega is bound to adore you for such a lovely gift.”

It was no wonder that the merchant knew that Arthur was an Alpha. The man sold items for Omegas, and the majority of his customers were Alphas.

“How much?” Arthur demanded, his tone stern.

The merchant bowed his head in something like apology, but his eyes twinkled, knowing he was about to make a sale. “It’s a hundred gold pieces.”

“A hundred?” Arthur snarled. “What makes this bauble so expensive?”

“I’ll show you, sir.” The merchant picked up the silver jewelry and turned it in his fingers. “You see these particular markings? These are magic runes, sir.”

“Magic?” Arthur gasped, forgetting to disguise his voice.

The merchant grinned. “Yes, my lord. It’s a well-known fact that many Omegas have magic, and so many jewelry items have runes and the like on them. Even the metal, the gemstone, and the runes matter to certain Omegas.”

Arthur kept himself as still as possible, not wanting to show any negativity. Not that he had much negativity toward those who had magic. He didn’t judge a person on that. He judged a person by his heart and the other good qualities one looked for in people. Plus, Gaius had magic -- healing magic; did that make Gaius evil?

“Do you know what these runes mean?” Arthur asked.

The merchant’s features didn’t change much: just a hint of a smirk on his lips indicated to Arthur what the answer would be.

“I do indeed, Sir. There are three runes etched along this piece, and they are: ‘protection’, ‘healing’, and ‘strength’. The stone embedded in the middle is amber--”

“I know.”

The merchant grinned wolfishly. “Amber has healing properties. It’s sure to aid an ailing Omega, especially while they’re in childbirth.”

Arthur lowered his head more, face glowing hot. “Good to know.”

“Silver is better than gold, when it comes to gifting jewelry to an Omega. There’s just something better about silver when you’re magical. And here’s the best part about this piece: it’s an anklet!” the merchant grinned. “Omegas adore anklets.”

Arthur had to clench a fist to stop himself from shaking visibly. The image of Merlin’s bare ankle appeared in his mind, and the silver anklet was added in without much thought. It was such an erotic image that it rendered him motionless.

“Sir?” the merchant said, not sounding at all surprised by Arthur’s reaction. “Will you buy it?”

Arthur unstuck his lips, licked them. They were bone dry. “I… uh, yes. I’ll buy it.”

“Thank you… Sire.” The merchant bowed low. “I hope your courtship goes well.”

Arthur raised his head and stared eye-to-eye with the merchant. “How -- never mind, just don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

The merchant winked. “You were never here, Sire.”

Arthur paid the man without a hitch, took the anklet and was about to leave, but then stopped and turned back.

“What else do you have that a magical Omega might like?”

The merchant practically beamed. “I usually only carry jewelry and trinkets… but I’ll part with something of value--for you, Sire.”

“It better not cost another hundred gold.”

“Indeed, this particular item is rare to this area. It’s only found in certain exotic locations around the world. I can’t lower the price very much, even for you, Sire.”

“I understand,” Arthur said. He mentally kissed his gold goodbye. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The merchant made a big production in producing it, but finally the item was placed in front of Arthur.

“It’s… a flower.”

“Not just any flower, my lord. This is an Amaranth. It’s an everlasting flower that’s said to never die. Quite magical.”

“Everlasting,” Arthur whispered. The flower was, indeed, spectacular. It was tall, reddish-purple in colour, and smelled like nothing he’d ever smelled before. If he stared at it long enough, he could swear it shivered.

“Magic users adore it,” the merchant said. “And if your Omega has magic, Sire, they’ll love it.” The man grinned. “And you.”

“Thank you. I’m dreading the cost now.”

“For you, Sire, since you didn’t haggle for the anklet, I’ll cut a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Arthur asked, dreading his decision.

“If you promise to purchase something else from me in the near future, and at full price, I’ll halve the cost of the Amaranth.”

“Am I getting a good deal, or am I being swindled?”

“Perish the thought, Sire! I know what would happen to me if I screwed you over.”

Arthur pursed his lips in thought. He didn’t have much time to dilly-dally, though. The feast would start soon, and he couldn’t be late. His father would never forgive him.

With a morose sigh, Arthur agreed to the deal. He was courting his Soulmate, after all -- who was most likely magical. He couldn’t afford to mess it up now.

.-.

The feast ended up delayed by one hour. The reason why wasn’t explained to the guests and servants, but the king’s most trusted men and advisers had been told.

It was because Uther couldn’t think of a reason for having the feast and inviting most of the lords and ladies of Camelot. This sort of festivity was reserved for special occasions. Uther thought his only son was to be engaged to a princess, but it never happened. Princess Mithian left for Caerleon to try to click with Queen Annis. A woman!

At least she was royalty. But what Uther had heard of Annis, she was somewhat savage. Their homes were rather primitive, their clothes were made the old-fashioned way, and their manners were in need of a good polish.

Queen Annis was also one of the richest royals in the land, so that meant many citizens under their care and a large army. Which for them spelled out ‘ally’, and an ally they should keep at all costs. And that meant Uther shouldn’t make any waves between them.

Mithian had been a promising mate for Arthur. She was beautiful, had impeccable manners, spoke well, could read and write, and had a great bloodline. Unfortunately, she and Arthur didn’t click.

And Uther knew why. How couldn’t he? Arthur had been panting after the boy for days, and he was resolute in his decision. It was almost sickening the way Arthur looked these days: desolate, edgy, short-tempered -- and he had dark rings around his eyes, with sunken eye-sockets.

Uther hated to admit it, especially to himself, but one day he’d have to face the fact that the male Omega was Arthur’s Soulmate. Even if Arthur were to take a princess as his first wife, that boy would get most of Arthur’s attention.

The boy would probably find a way to get rid of the first wife, actually. Uther had a very good idea that the boy -- Merlin -- had magic. Gaius probably knew, too, but the old physician kept mum. Merlin would probably use magic to kill the first wife, and make it seem like an accident. Uther had to think of some way to stop their union from ever happening.

At first, Uther considered having Merlin executed, purely on the grounds of disrupting courtly duties and using a spell on Arthur, or something. But he knew the backlash that would cause, not to mention the tongue-lashing he’d get from Morgana.

So, he came up with a plan. If Merlin did indeed have magic, he needed to be collared and given to a Handler. If the boy didn’t have magic, the collar wouldn’t phase him and he’d get to go free. Not having magic also meant Merlin owned a pussy behind his balls, and Uther found he was fine with that.

But he also hoped Arthur would choose more than one mate. Royals were allowed to do that. Even Agravaine had himself a large harem, and larger now after hearing that he had added a couple new ones.

Plan mapped out in his head, Uther ordered his servant to tell the royal tanner and blacksmith to prepare everything. If the feast didn’t go as planned, at least he’d finally get to the truth of it all.

.-.

Arthur hastened to the infirmary -- back to where he knew his Soulmate still resided. The itch in the back of his mind grew in intensity and his nostrils flared madly. The closer he got, the sweatier his palms and the harder it was to hold onto the Amaranth.

He swallowed a lump in his throat when his hand located the jewelry box in his pocket. He debated with himself over and over which gift to give Merlin first. Should he present his Omega with the jewelry first or the flowers? It might be best to give the Amaranth first, seeing how they were in his hands, and they were kind of hard to miss, even if he hid them behind his back.

Besides, the magic emitting from them might tip Merlin off. Flowers first, then. Jewelry second. That was, if Merlin reacted well enough after being given the flowers. Of course, they were magical. Why wouldn’t he like them?

The itchy sensation in his head turned luciferous. His eyes ached, his heart jostled hard against his ribs, and his mind zizzled into a sputtering mess. He felt his eyes throb into a red blotch. Merlin wasn’t going into heat, but it had been passed due that they met again. His body rebelled in a way that would have anyone worried for his health. If any Beta, or non-pure, went through what he was going through, they’d be on the floor by now, possibly dying.

As his heart sped up, so did his footsteps. His stride grew longer, his steps heavier, and unsurprisingly his aura strengthened almost tenfold. Every alpha -- no matter what their bloodline -- scurried out of his way. He became an unstoppable mass of muscle--a juggernaut. If someone didn’t move out of his way fast enough, they got ploughed over. Arthur didn’t even notice whom he had run into, or what. He was a red-blooded Alpha on a mission, and he wasn’t about to be diverted, whatever occurred.

“Hey, Arthur,” Gwaine tried, but then dove out of the way when he saw--and sensed--that Arthur wasn’t slowing down or stopping. The thick aura and odor pouring off Arthur was so potent it made Gwaine’s knees nearly buckle. “Bloody hell! Someone’s hard up.”

Then Gwen tried to greet Arthur, she noticed too late that he wasn’t acknowledging her and she toppled over, landing on her butt. She stared after him in a daze, hurt and confused. When his smell finally registered, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

He encountered no one else along the way. His reptile brain wouldn’t be silenced. Even if he were presented with his favorite foods -- stag offal, numbles, and crushed walnuts -- he wouldn’t stop. He’d gone into predatory mode, and his brain had gone reptilian. If any Alpha tried to stop him now, they’d get a belly full of sword.

Arthur opted to dispense with any knocking. He burst through the door and clearly announced: “I’m here to claim what’s mine. Anyone that says otherwise will get a sword in their chest.”

“Sire,” Gaius gasped. He leaped up from his workbench and hurried over. “Please, he’s still resting and--”

Merlin emerged from his sleeping quarters, yawning and scratching. His dark hair was tousled and stuck up every which way. He was about to speak, but when his eyes landed on Arthur, they grew and blinked continuously.

Their eyes immediately met and both of their faces glowed with a mixture of emotions. They stared for about a minute, then their eyes roamed each others’ features. It felt like neither had seen each other in years.

Gaius’s cough startled them back to reality. “Feel any better, Merlin?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Merlin said. He trailed off. His eyes wouldn’t stop exploring every inch of Arthur’s face and body. When he finally noticed what Arthur held in his hands, Merlin brought his gaze to the floor, cheeks heating up.

Gaius gestured his head toward Merlin, eyes on the flowers in Arthur’s hands. Arthur stared at Gaius, lost. He mouthed: ‘what?’ harshly.

Fed up, Gaius said, “Merlin, I believe Arthur has something he’d like to give you.”

Merlin’s head snapped up and he stared, wide-eyed.

Arthur jerked forward, nearly tripping over his own feet, and held out the Amaranth.

The look and smell of the magical flowers did things to Merlin’s insides. His senses told him that the Amaranth was the real thing. He took a half-step forward.

“For -- for me?” he whispered.

Arthur force his gaze to stay linked with Merlin’s. “Yeah… they are. What other insubordinate pure-blooded Omega do you see here?”

Merlin’s wide, impressed stare transformed into a darker, and more insubordinate glare. “There is no one else,” he nearly snarled. “Unless you have some other disobedient paramour awaiting your courting, too?”

“That’s the sort of talk that’ll get you put in the stocks.”

“I hope that means there’s nobody else you’re vying for.” Merlin honestly had no idea where all his bravura came from. It must be because of Arthur’s proximity. Arthur’s scent wasn’t helping much either.

“Why would I want to torture myself with having two of you? One Merlin is plenty.”

“To be sure.” Merlin smiled, eyes softening. To his own surprise, he found he wasn’t faking any of his emotions. “Your hips wouldn’t handle it either,” he suddenly added.

 _ _Where the hell did that come from__ , Merlin thought. His cheeks turned a dusty pink.

Arthur sighed dramatically. “Not to mention my knot--” He paused, face burning when he realized he’d said that out loud.

Merlin found himself mimicking Arthur’s reaction. He opened his mouth to fill the awkward silence, but couldn’t think of what to say. Arthur’s appearance and odor rendered him speechless. Eyes stayed focused on each other, cheeks overspreading with a deep, violent blush.

Arthur was first to shake out of it, and he stretched an arm out. “Here… they’re yours.”

Merlin stepped up shyly. “Oh, yeah…” He carefully grasped the bottom stems, missing Arthur’s fingers by inches. “Thanks. They’re… how did you find these?”

“I know a few merchants that sell rare objects. It did cost me loads of gold, though.”

“No doubts there.” Merlin buried his nose into the purple blossoms. “They’re lovely… I can sense their powers.”

A shiver ran down Arthur’s spine. He forced himself to not react in the way that his father would. He had NO reason to hate magic users. They didn’t do anything heinous to him. Arthur took a deeper look at Merlin. His Soulmate’s hair was coal-colored, and still sleep-tousled. His long lashes partially concealed his vivid blue eyes. When Merlin looked up from the flowers, possibly sensing Arthur’s gaze on him, their eyes locked. Arthur saw more than just blue in those irises. The flecks of gold wove themselves into the heavenly azure, like rivers of gold amongst a vast lake.

“Magic,” he murmured.

Merlin’s eyes widened. “What?”

Arthur quickly shook out of whatever enchantment he fell under and dug the jewelry box out of his pocket. He presented it without looking at Merlin.

“Is this mine, too?” Merlin said.

“I’m courting you, Merlin,” he said, eyes still downcast. “What do you think?”

Bundling the flowers under one arm, Merlin took the box and opened it. He swallowed a gasp, throat tight.

“It’s an anklet,” Arthur mumbled most un-prince-like. “Goes ‘round your ankle.”

“It’s silver,” Merlin said, voice awe-filled.

“Look at the symbols.”

Merlin’s eyes watered; cheeks flushed achingly. “Runes?”

“Magic runes. You see--” Arthur automatically stepped closer and leaned into Merlin’s personal space. The heat between them merged and grew. They both felt it, but they also both opted to ignore it. Arthur steeled himself, his royal poise bearing out the pain. “--this rune, this here… this one means--”

“Protection,” Merlin said. He gave a soppy smile. “I know. And this one is healing, and this is strength.”

Arthur’s eyes darted around, face pinking. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like having runes on--it was recommended to me by the merchant.”

Merlin smiled, eyes stinging. “It’s lovely. But why an anklet and not, say, a ring or bracelet?”

“I couldn’t help it,” Arthur admitted. “When I saw your bare ankle, I--”

“And when was this, then?” Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Were you spying on me?”

“It’s not my fault you sleep like a drunk octopus.”

Merlin hummed. “That’s right… Gaius mentioned you had come earlier.”

When Merlin lifted his head, he was almost nose to nose with Arthur. The closeness did horrible things to his stomach, not to mention his heart and mind.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?”

Arthur seriously had no idea where that came from. His eyes mirrored Merlin’s bright round ones. They gazed at each other a while, faces darkened with blood.

A part of Merlin wanted to refuse, but he found he couldn’t. The very essence of Arthur was irresistible, and his aura called out to him, begging him to close the narrow gap between them. It was their souls crying out to begin the Bond.

Without a word, Merlin turned, placed the flowers onto a free spot on the worktable, and sat on the nearest stool. He held out the open jewelry box and stretched out his left leg, exposing his ankle.

Arthur felt a sudden punch to his gut at the sight. He fell to his knees, snatching the box from Merlin’s hand at the same time. He looked up; held out a hand. Merlin smiled shyly and placed his naked heel onto Arthur’s palm.

They gasped simultaneously.

“Emrys…” Arthur whispered. Just the sound rolling off his tongue tasted as sweet as a flower-scented breeze. His body heated up to twice the normal temperature, and his cock strained wetly against his trousers, unbidden. It was a natural response to speaking their Soulmate’s soul name for the first time.

“Ursus,” Merlin softly moaned. The mere sound of Arthur’s soul name rushing from his mouth sent his entire body into a meltdown. He swayed closer to Arthur, drawn in by the overpowering musk that radiated off his skin.

They couldn’t stop staring into the depths of each other’s eyes, drinking in every detail and every minuscule shade. They gravitated to each other, noticing the perfections of their mate’s shapes and contours, their hues and auras, and even the minute bits of imperfections.

The blueness of Merlin’s eyes, flecked with gold, were heavily accented by the thickness and length of his lashes. His lips were full and red, tantalizingly sweet. They seemed soft, but at the same time, sharp -- as if balanced in perfect equality of masculine and feminine. It was a quality Arthur began to adore.

The pop of blue-grey of Arthur’s eyes was helped by the delicate lightness of his blond lashes. There was a gentle dusting of light brown freckles on his cheeks. Sunlight shone through the window at the perfect angle, highlighting just how golden Arthur was.

Arthur’s body moved without thought: he slid the anklet onto Merlin’s foot, caressing every curve and bump along the way. It nestled snugly on Merlin’s ankle, lightly covered in dark hair.

“My eternal mate,” Arthur whispered. “Emrys.”

“My cuddly bear,” Merlin said, smirking. “Ursus.”

Arthur’s lips quirked. “I don’t think that’s appropriate for royalty.”

“True. So if anyone else dares call you that, I’d have to hurt them.”

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. Merlin joined in, but less boisterously. They laughed for almost a minute, stared at each other as they calmed down, then cracked up again.

Wiping his eyes, Arthur said, “All right, enough. I think it’s about time I claimed my Soulmate.”

Merlin’s eyebrows rose, incredulous. He knew that Arthur could be blunt but, dang. “And how do you do that, Sire? I hope that my virtue isn’t already about to be spoiled.”

Arthur chuckled. He leaned in, tip of his nose touching Merlin’s. “That doesn’t come until your heat does. This is still the wooing stage. It’s the proper thing to do, especially after I finally found and caught you.”

Merlin smiled. “Yeah, good. I don’t think my heat will come again for another week or so.”

“In the meantime, I’m to court you.” Arthur paused, face darkening. “And I’ll need to deal with my father, too.”

Merlin sighed. “I do wish that wasn’t a problem.”

“You’re not alone.” They shared a smile, faces crimson. “Now then,” Arthur said, clearing his throat. He leaned in, mouths almost touching. “About that claim I’m about to take.”

Merlin’s entire body felt as if it were in the middle of a conflagration. His mind shut down and his heart sped up. No reasonable thought entered, just a pounding need to consent to Arthur. The wild instinct within him demanded that he allow his Soulmate to lay claim, and indeed, he leaned forward, anticipation thrumming through his bones. He could smell the sweet spices that wafted from Arthur’s breath.

The door behind him banged open without warning, and a page entered. “Sire, the king--”

The page never had a chance. In one swift, whirling movement, Arthur had his sword out and brought it down diagonally across the page’s body. The boy’s eyes were wide and white, mouth opened in a noiseless scream. He dropped to his knees, chin resting on his chest, and began to topple over. Blood pooled around the page’s legs and knees.

Gaius rushed forward and grasped the boy around the shoulders, steadying him. “My lord, control yourself!” he berated.

“You know why I did it,” Arthur growled. He stood stock still, knuckles hard and white around the sword’s handle. His face was sanguine, and his chest rose and fell heedlessly.

“There was really no need--” Gaius tried.

“He interrupted my Bonding,” Arthur snarled, lip curled. “Besides, the boy should have knocked.”

Gaius looked to Merlin for help with the page, but there wasn’t any rational sign in Merlin’s eyes. He seemed almost unphased by what had just happened. Getting no response from his assistant, Gaius led the page to the medical cot, with some difficulties. He heaved the boy onto the cot, removed his shirt so he could get at the wound, and then quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin. He’d have to clean the wound before stitching him up.

A heavy disquiet settled over the room. The only sounds heard were of Gaius working (and muttering) over the boy’s body, the boy groaning and crying out with pain, and the harsh breathing coming from Arthur.

After a minute of uneasy silence, Arthur turned to face Merlin. His smoldering, blood-pitted eyes drowned in Merlin’s deep blues, joined. That brutal, unthinkable action of Arthur’s didn’t even seem to register within Merlin’s purview. The cry of pain from the page hadn’t even touched his ears. He was too busy, seemingly, staring dumbfounded at Arthur. At his Ursus.

All of Merlin’s undivided attention was strictly on Arthur. The cries from the medical cot was distant and nonsensical. Only Arthur -- his Ursus -- existed. There was no other entity in the world that truly mattered. All of his senses were directed on Arthur, and nothing else came through.

Arthur’s nostrils flared from the scent that assailed him. Merlin -- his Emrys -- was the most attractive creature he’d ever beheld. Merlin’s scent had grown tenfold -- heavy and pungent. The sweet-sour of his aura drove Arthur mad with the urge to finish his claim, and to covet and conquer. Merlin was his and only his. If anyone dared try to take Merlin as their own, they wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise.

In a single heartbeat, Arthur was on his knees again, and grasped Merlin’s adorned ankle tightly. Their eyes stayed glued as Arthur slowly caressed the top of Merlin’s foot, then ran down to the sole. Merlin jerked softly from the ticklish sensation, but otherwise didn’t move.

Arthur brought Merlin’s foot up to his face. “Emrys.”

Merlin’s eyes fogged and his lips quirked. “Ursus,” he whispered.

Arthur kissed the topmost area of Merlin’s foot, dangerously close to where the silver anklet lay. Arthur lifted Merlin’s foot higher to plant a gentle, full-lipped kiss in the middle of the arched sole. Merlin quivered. Arthur stared, heavy-lidded.

“Sire,” Gaius said, seemingly from far away. “Sire, please--the page came to tell you that your father urgently needs your presence. The feast is starting, and they can’t begin without you.”

“Fuck him,” Arthur immediately responded. “He can begin without me.”

“Sire!” Gaius gasped. “Don’t forget that you have duties--”

Arthur’s eyes rose, and they radiated a deep fire that Gaius recognized as a warning.

“My duty,” Arthur rasped, “is to my Soulmate. Now more than ever. I have no other duty worthy of my time.”

Gaius gathered all of his courage, took a couple deep breaths, and said: “Sire, with the deepest respect, you can’t ignore your duties to king and country. You swore an oath that cannot be broken.”

Arthur stood suddenly, causing Gaius to back up startled. Arthur spoke in quick anger: “Why should I keep my oath to a man who had been trying to deny me what’s mine? He knows the consequences for his actions, and yet he blocks me from my claim at every turn. What good reason do I still have to obey such a man?”

“How about the kingdom,” Gaius said tersely, “and your people?”

“I won’t diminish my duty to them by claiming my Soulmate. It would  only increase it. If the king can’t accept that, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Before Gaius could offer any more advice, the door flew open and Gwaine stood there staring hard-eyed into the room. Some of the hardness melted when he saw Arthur.

“There you are, Sire! The king is raving about you not being present at the feast. I think he’ll pop a blood vessel if he keeps it up.”

“Then let him,” Arthur growled. He knelt back down to cup Merlin’s foot again. He couldn’t go even a few seconds without touching his Soulmate. “I don’t care if his heart pops! He’ll not stop me from claiming what’s rightfully mine.”

Gwaine took a cautious step back, sensing the overpowering Alpha-scent radiating off Arthur. During this, Merlin had leaned forward as if absorbing the potent scent from Arthur. He wet his lips with his tongue, savoring the smell and taste in the air.

“I understand, Sire,” Gwaine said, his tone careful. “But the king might do something awful to your Soulmate if you don’t.”

The knowledge of that statement was both enraging and sobering. But the mere thought of parting with his Emrys now destroyed him. It was extremely difficult to separate his flesh from Merlin’s, so he transferred his hand from Merlin’s foot to his hand.

Hot blood rushed into Merlin’s face and ears, and he smiled uncontrollably. He didn’t want to put his boot back on, because then it would cover up the gift Arthur had given him. Instead, Merlin kicked off his other boot.

Arthur pulled him to his feet and led them out of the room. As he passed by Gwaine, he brushed shoulders with him -- a subtle dominant gesture that Gwaine caught. Gwaine lowered his eyes and took a step back.

.-.

The coolness of the castle floor on his feet helped ease some of the heat pouring off him, but it didn’t diminish much of the radiating heat coming from Arthur -- his Ursus.

His Alpha. His Pure-blooded Royal Alpha. His Soulmate. His overbearing but adorably protective prince who would one day became king of Camelot.

Was he lucky to have such a mate, or was he doomed to forever be known as the “queen” of the future king?

At this moment, it was hard to reason about anything. Their skin was touching, their innermost secret soul names had been revealed, and their Bond had started. If anyone were to try separating them now, that person might end up dead, or at least horribly maimed. Arthur had no qualms about slicing up his own men or servants. But would Arthur harm his own father?

Arthur kept hold of Merlin’s hand the entire way to the throne room. When the guards saw him (and smelled him), they wasted no time opening the doors. At the sound of their entrance, Uther turned away from Agravaine to look at them.

Uther tried to ignore Merlin, but Agravaine didn’t even try. He stared right at Merlin as he and Arthur strode confidently down the length of the occupied table. Everyone was seated and waiting for the feast to start.

Uther kept his gaze steadily on Arthur. “Release that boy, Arthur, and take your place beside me.”

“Father, Merlin and I have begun our Bond. He’s my Soulmate, no matter how you feel personally about it. You cannot keep me from my Mating Rights! You know this.”

Uther’s face turned a strange mixture of red and purple. His knuckles bled white around the pommel of his sword. Merlin smelled the pungent odor emitting off Uther. To Merlin, at this moment, Uther smelled repulsive -- as if his sweat had become putrid.

It was complete opposite of Arthur. The potent odor from him assailed Merlin’s nose and bought a liquid warm sensation up and down his spine. There had been times in the past, years ago, when father and son had fought because the father usually disapproved of his son’s choice. But all the accounts known have been about Chosen Mates, not Soulmates. If Arthur and Uther fought about Merlin, it would be a first for the history books.

Uther ground his teeth, nostrils flaring madly and eyes glittering with murder. “We’ll address this subject later, Arthur! Take your seat so we can begin the feast. Everyone’s waiting--everyone had been waiting on you! You’re keeping our guests and allies from their meals. Now do the right thing and sit down.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, patiently waiting to see what he’d do. The abrupt silence dragged on as Arthur went to his seat, Merlin stumbling after him as he tried to keep up with his angry strides. Their hands were still entwined, knuckles colorless and palms slippery.

Uther pointedly ignored the scene. Even Arthur didn’t know what his father had planned, and he knew that Uther must have a plan. If not, Uther would have made more of a stink when Arthur refused to release Merlin.

Arthur kept vigilant while Merlin endured the roomful of stares. He lowered his gaze to look as subservient as possible. The room was filled with pure-blood royals and warrior allies; an Omega showing anything other than total obedience was usually frowned upon. Adamant Omegas were not highly coveted. Most Alphas liked their Omegas to remain submissive, and to not talk back to their “masters”.

Merlin chose not to ruffle any feathers just yet. Once he was truly mated to Arthur, then he could assert his Adamant personality all he liked, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.

There was no seat for Merlin at the high table. For a second, it looked as if Arthur would make him sit on his lap. With all the royal guests there, Merlin knew there was no way Arthur would. So, he stood there, staring at Arthur as he waited.

“Arthur,” Uther warned, tone stern.

Merlin was about to sit on the floor by Arthur’s chair, but Arthur halted him with a tug of his hand. They had never released each other. Instead of what Merlin thought Arthur was going to do, Arthur surprised him by pulling him closer to his face. The temperature went up a smidgen from that little closeness.

“Serve me while you’re here, Merlin,” Arthur said. His voice did queer things to Merlin’s insides. His face burned.

“Wait, Sire--you want me to… right here, in front of all these people?” he whispered.

Arthur picked up his empty goblet and presented it to Merlin. “Yes, I want you to serve me, so get me some wine.”

“Oh!” Merlin chuckled softly. “I thought you’d meant--”

“Now, Merlin.”

“Yes, Sire.”

As Merlin hurried off to grab the ewer of wine, goblet in hand, he couldn’t stop the full-bodied blush. He knew everyone either stared at him or was whispering about him to their neighbor. The stares of others unnerved him. The look that came from Uther was even more nerve-wracking; it was just as harsh and cruel as the winter wind. The urgent need to build a nest in Arthur’s chamber was poignant. When he turned to give Arthur his drink, their eyes automatically found each other. His heart sped up tenfold. He melted into Arthur’s bright, unblinking stare -- wholly and deeply engrossed by his own inner struggle. Arthur’s name sang out to him, fluttering around in his head like a mad canary: __Ursus -- Ursus -- Ursus --__

Arthur had the nearly uncontrollable urge to forget the feast and drag Merlin back to his bedchambers. The misery he felt in his very soul was of the acutest kind. The tumult of his heart and mind was painfully great. He hated the stares that his Soulmate received from others, and he wished desperately to shoot a fiery glare in their direction. It would not be proper, however, to act in such a manner. He had to subdue his true feelings and painstakingly wait until the feast was over.

As Merlin held out the goblet of wine, and Arthur took hold of it, their fingers brushed. Merlin couldn’t remove his hand, no matter what his rational mind told him. Arthur didn’t seem to care, since he kept hold of Merlin’s hand as well as the goblet. They kept staring, ignoring the growing buzz around them.

“Arthur,” Uther said, voice cutting through their savory reverie.

They both started, and the goblet tipped and spilled wine onto Arthur’s sleeve. Arthur quickly caught the goblet before it fell to the floor.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur--” Merlin began.

“Be careful--” Arthur said almost at the same time.

“Sorry,” Merlin repeated, face flushed almost as red as the wine.

“Do you know how hard it is to get wine stains out?” Arthur halfheartedly griped.

“I’m really very sorry--”

“This jacket costs way more than you or your family could afford.”

“I’ll clean it,” Merlin said swiftly. His mouth apparently decided to get away from him, because he couldn’t stop babbling. “I promise, I will -- I know a way to --”

Merlin stopped short, remembering that he shouldn’t mention his magic in public, and certainly not in front of the king.

“I highly doubt you’d know a way to clean wine stains,” Arthur said. He stared at Merlin’s down-turned face, mind racing with damning thoughts. He had a feeling Merlin was about to slip up and mention using magic.

The king stood and rapped his knuckles hard on the table. “That’s enough,” he boomed. “It’s time to start the feast!” He raised his goblet and declared: “A toast, ladies and gentleman, to you all and to Camelot!”

The royals and guests raised their own goblets high. Some looked confused as to what the toasting was really about, but they kept silent.

Uther waved his goblet around at those sitting at the table, nodding in turn. “A toast to… to all pure-bloods in our land who have found and clicked with their mates.”

“Cheers!” Gwaine shouted happily, and then downed his wine before anyone else.

As Uther went on with his nonsensical toast, carefully not mentioning Arthur or Merlin, Merlin stepped back and put some space between him and Arthur with painful slowness. His mind whirled with what had just happened a few minutes ago. That one moment seemed to have changed everything.

The second Arthur had touched his bare foot, Arthur’s soul name had burst from his innermost psyche and out of his mouth. The dream they had shared didn’t even compare to the sensations he had received from that one moment of flesh-touch. The involuntary urge to leap up and wrap himself tightly around Arthur was difficult to overcome.

 _ _Ursus__  was more than just a secret soul name. Much about Arthur was expressed in that one name. Not only did it reveal his inner anima--his inner soul, but the whole of his personality now lay out to Merlin like a picture book. It was the same with Merlin’s soul name, though -- Arthur now knew Merlin in ways others didn’t. Merlin had an idea that Arthur knew that he had magic.

That possibility didn’t worry him as much as it should. When Arthur had given him the Amaranth -- magical flowers! -- it never crossed his mind that Arthur would harm him. First off, Arthur was his Soulmate. Secondly, why give him flowers that screamed magic? The silver anklet with the runes was also telling. If Arthur suspected he had magic, and yet still bought him magical items, then he had nothing to worry about -- not from Arthur, anyway. Not from his Ursus.

Uther, on the other hand, was another story. Merlin kept a reserved candor as he attended to Arthur’s every need, as if he were nothing more than a manservant. He didn’t want to even peek at Uther -- afraid of what he might see in the king’s eyes. Merlin tried to look contrite and deferential, keeping his gaze ahead of him or downward.

He hated acting submissive. His whole being shook as he fought down his assertiveness. He and Arthur had begun their Bonding. They were closer than they’d been, and they were about to get even closer very soon. Not only did his mind cry out for more of Arthur’s touch, but his heart and soul ached acutely.

Merlin knew he was a walking contradiction. His mannerisms and attitude were unbending -- unyielding. Yet, he was an Omega. He would have to submit to Arthur the moment he went into heat. It was disquieting to even think about. The fact that he even entertained the idea of letting Arthur touch him in such a way… but his instincts -- and his soul -- were eagerly urging him on. The arcane senses wouldn’t be denied.

He refilled Arthur’s goblet with aching slowness. Arthur’s gaze stayed steadily on Merlin’s, hard and promising. As Merlin drew closer -- as though Arthur was a blazing fire and Merlin the suicidal moth -- a predatory look filled Arthur’s features. Merlin couldn’t take his attention from the depths of Arthur’s eyes, the soul-piercing stare.

Slowly, feeling the instinctual compulsions and unable to inhibit them, Merlin put his left hand onto Arthur’s face.

They both stilled, took a trembling breath, and struggled to keep from closing their eyes. In a very un-Alpha-like manner, Arthur tilted his head and leaned into Merlin’s touch. A maelstrom of emotions embraced their physical being just as it intermingled their hearts. The world emptied of everything except the agonizing need that throbbed through them. Nothing else existed in this moment. The feast didn’t exist, the dining hall didn’t exist, the guests didn’t exist, and especially the king didn’t exist.

The Bond cried out to be completed. They had to mingle their spit, else the tie won’t go so well for Arthur. He needed ** **immunity****  from the poison that flowed through Merlin’s veins. Arthur must exchange saliva -- must get Merlin’s spit into his mouth and down his throat. It must be __digested__ , else the Bond won’t take and Arthur would die the second he pushed his cock into Merlin. Merlin’s ichor would attack his bloodstream, attack his heart, and then that would be the end of him.

On a morbid note, Merlin could continue if he wanted. Before Arthur’s body got too cold, Merlin could use magic to force Arthur’s seed out of his body and into his.

But Arthur wouldn’t be alive to enjoy it, nor would he have the satisfaction of making a foamy mess with their fluids. His many bursts of seed and Merlin’s natural lubrication would intermix and churn into a frothy, white concoction. Their rutting heat would produce the loveliest foam, and a good foam between them meant the Bonding was successful. That was what he’d been told, anyway.

Arthur turned his head into Merlin’s hand and kissed his palm. Merlin’s pupils blown wide and his breathing quickened. Arthur grabbed the hand he’d kissed and threaded his fingers with Merlin’s. Merlin understood the small cues he received from Arthur’s blazing look. Nothing mattered except this moment.

Merlin hesitatingly leaned forward. Arthur lifted his face up to his Soulmate, lips parting instinctively. He eagerly awaited to receive his Omega’s gift of saliva.

Merlin was violently pulled back and put into a full Nelson.

Arthur stood swiftly and immediately presented his sword. He couldn’t strike yet, because the coward was behind Merlin. The bastard probably knew he’d be safe from Arthur’s wrath if he used Merlin as a shield.

“Enough, Arthur! You’re exhibiting yourself perversely before our guests. Start acting like a true pure-blooded prince or I’ll lock the boy up in the dungeon.”

Uther certainly knew his son well. At least he knew Arthur well enough to know that threatening to put Merlin in the dungeon, and not Arthur, would do the trick.

Instinct warred with reasoning. Rationally, Arthur knew he shouldn’t run his sword through the king. His instincts, however, wanted to get rid of the obstacle keeping him from his mate.

But Arthur’s bearing and upbringing won out. Although with great difficulty, Arthur smothered his urge to kill. Besides, there were too many witnesses.

“You’ve a choice,” Uther said. “Either he’s removed from the Hall entirely, or he serves another lord.”

Arthur turned a red-hot stare at Uther. His hormones turned into dangerous rage. Anger became a deep hatred. He had never hated anyone more than he did now.

“If you don’t calm down, Arthur, and give me your answer, I’ll order Merlin to be sent to the deepest part of the dungeons, and gladly.”

Arthur ground his teeth, eyesight blurring with white spots. His grip on his sword tightened and he raised it halfway.

But when Uther lifted a hand in gesture to the guards, Arthur relented. He violently shoved his sword back into its scabbard and turned away, eyes shut. He trembled from head to foot, sweat beading on his forehead. Something burned in his eyes.

Uther immediately changed his hand-signal, gesturing for the guard to release Merlin. Once he did, Merlin stepped away from the guard, nose hurting. The odor from the guard bothered him extremely, but so did watching Arthur break down and yield. Pure-blooded Alphas were not supposed to yield to anyone, unless they had lost an Alpha Duel.

“Now sit down, Arthur,” Uther demanded. “The entertainment is about to start. Lady Helen will be singing.”

.-.

Merlin had to stay in the shadows. He felt like a caricature more than what he really was: Arthur’s future consort.

The irritation he’d felt before toward Arthur was a minute one, now. After speaking each other’s soul names, their true-selves were revealed, but only to each other. Arthur wasn’t a horrible person, despite the way he’d been raised. The vast chasm that he didn’t know existed was now filled with the missing piece: Ursus.

And without his Ursus, his soul--his very being--would feel as though it had been plunged into the abyss.

As Lady Helen stood in the center of the hall and prepared to sing, dark clouds rolled across the sky. Through the wide, clear windows Merlin saw the looming thunderstorm approach. The silent flashes in the jet-black clouds lit up the area. The same moment when the guests and royal persons applauded, thunder rolled and clapped, adding an eerie sensation to the hall.

All the hairs on the back of Merlin’s neck stood up, as if he’d been struck by lightning. The black clouds enshrouded the remainder of outside light, causing the candlelight to appear to dim. Merlin stepped out of the shadowy servant hallway, power crackling through him.

Lady Helen slowly edged forward as she began to sing. She started soft, tone pleasant and melodic, yet haunting. Her steps stayed even as she moved, her voice sweet and enchanting. She slowly raised her arms, hitting a higher note than the last.

All of Merlin’s senses quivered, pulsing in near-timed beats with Helen’s magic. He knew at that moment that Helen wasn’t just planning to sing an ancient folk song, but use it as a distraction or cover-up to what she was really about to do.

Just as Merlin stepped closer to the high table, Helen’s voice changed pitch. Silky spiderwebs interlaced around everyone, and they all hunched over in their seats, eyes falling shut. The webs thickened, the room darkened, and the storm outside roared angrily.

Arthur’s eyes closed and his head lolled forward as he was finally lulled. Helen took this as her cue and slipped a small dagger out from under her sleeve.

Merlin, immune to her low-level spell, bounded forward to stop her. He didn’t think of the consequences -- he couldn’t! His Soulmate’s life was on the line. If Helen succeeded in killing Arthur, he’d die too. They hadn’t finished their Bond, or the courting, and if Arthur died now it would ripple through to Merlin, and the shock of losing his Soulmate so early in their relationship (such as it was) would destroy him.

Or he’d go completely mad and then kill himself.

There was no other solution. Merlin had to counter her spell, and stop the dagger from finding its mark.

Lightning flashed and Merlin raised one hand to simultaneously halt her sleep spell and block the thrown dagger. Helen jerked back as if hit by a large stone, and her dagger bounced cleanly off Merlin’s magical shield.

Thunder clapped and lightning streaked the night-shrouded sky. There was a cloudburst and roaring rain beat mercilessly on the castle roofs and windows. The guests woke suddenly from the noise after the spell broke. Many ladies screamed once they realized they were covered in webs. The commotion alerted the royals, and they took in the scene before them.

Merlin still had his magical force field visible, and his eyes gleamed a bright gold. Helen had crumpled to the ground, unable to hold her own magic together amidst the onslaught of Merlin’s. Her features morphed before their eyes, and soon Helen looked nothing like herself. She was an old hedge-witch, from what Merlin gathered.

Uther stood from his chair and pointed a shaky finger at the witch. “You! I should have known you’d return. You have some nerve, Mary.”

The witch, Mary, struggled to stand but could only get on hands and knees. Merlin’s magic was still in full effect.

“It’s your fault my son died,” she shrieked. “He could’ve defended himself if it wasn’t for your odious collars!”

Mary bowed her head as if she were about to pray, but what she mumbled sounded like anything but pious. Her entire body shook, and a strange glow enveloped her.

“Guards!” Uther cried.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. He leaped from his chair and over the table, knocking over the pitcher of wine. Red liquid pooled onto the table and ran down the sides, splashing on the flagstones.

Arthur was a foot behind Merlin, hand outstretched to grab his shoulder, when Merlin pushed his magic forward. The result was immediate. The spell that Mary was about to cast backfired, and she screamed and writhed on the floor, rubbing her chest vigorously.

“My __animus!__ ” she screeched. Thunder pealed throughout the sky and echoed inside the hall. “My animus--my animus… my animus…” she whined, trailing off into a fitful sob.

“Detain her!” Uther bellowed over Mary’s cries. Guards came forward and immediately snapped a Dampening Collar around her neck.

Mary screamed bloody murder, body racked with pain. She howled on the floor, limp and powerless. Her face was wet with tears and sweat. “My… animus…” she whimpered.

Merlin dropped his hand, ending his magic.

“Merlin--” Arthur said.

Merlin turned, nose nearly bumping into Arthur’s. Their faces flushed for many reasons, all of them good.

“Ursus,” Merlin whispered, taking care that only Arthur heard him.

Arthur’s features lit up, eyes sparkling. “Emrys--”

“Guards,” Uther ordered again, pointing at Merlin.

Arthur pushed Merlin behind him, sword out and aimed at Camelot’s royal guards.

The entire room watched in bated silence. Even the royal knights and allies observed the scene in shock and wonderment. Only a handful were anticipating the outcome with growing glee.

“You know the law, Arthur,” Uther said. “He must be collared and given to a Handler.”

“Let him be free,” Arthur pleaded. “I’ll be responsible for him just as Leon is responsible for Morgana.”

“I cannot do that--”

“He’s my Soulmate,” Arthur snapped. “We’re to tie in less than a fortnight. I won’t be able to if he’s suppressed!”

Uther walked up to Arthur casually, seemingly unafraid of Arthur’s ire. “This is different. The boy isn’t royalty, and he isn’t a citizen of Camelot. The law must be obeyed.”

“Over my dead body,” Arthur snarled. He lifted his sword high above his head, about to strike his own father.

Uther’s most loyal men acted without a word from the king. Three of them quickly snatched Merlin from behind and two others unsheathed their swords.

“Arthur!” Merlin gasped. The sound of Merlin’s distress put a grinding halt to his sword mid-swing. Arthur pivoted round to see five swords threatening his Soulmate’s life.

“You dare--” Arthur growled. His voice was barely recognizable, even to his own ears. It was as if the beast within had come to the forefront.

Merlin glowed like foxfire, ready to use his magic to free himself. One of the knights noticed -- Sir Hector -- and he acted immediately: he latched a Dampener onto Merlin’s neck, hands trembling excitedly.

Merlin’s world blurred, became unfocused. But he didn’t crumple to the floor as Mary did. He kept his footing all while staring at Uther through a crimson-stained filter. His knees buckled and were threatening to collapse, but he mustered every ounce of strength he had.

Arthur jerked a half-step forward, but stopped when one of Uther’s men pressed his sword’s edge under Merlin’s chin. Merlin lifted his head in instinctual survival.

“The boy goes to the dungeons--”

“No!” Arthur cried.

“Wait, Sire,” Gaius swiftly interrupted. He scurried up to the king. “Allow me to look after Merlin.”

Uther paused for almost a minute, as if he had new ideas swirling in his head.

“He must be punished first, before I assign him to a Handler.”

“He doesn’t deserve any punishment,” Gaius said. “He saved your life, and Arthur’s. He should be given a reward.”

Uther turned, glaring hard at Gaius. “He has powerful magic -- he’s a major threat to this kingdom. I’ll not have a Hellion running loose here, not while I’m king!”

“You’re punishing him well enough,” Gaius reassured him. “You’ve taken away his access to his magic, and you’ve denied him his Soulmate. That’s the harshest sentence you can give a magical Omega.”

Uther appeared to think it over. Arthur stood stock still, heart in his throat. His inner beast demanded retribution. Deep, ingrained instincts warred with his royal upbringing. But if he attacked now, Uther might order his men to slit Merlin’s throat. That was the only thing staying his hand.

Finally, Uther nodded, coming to a conclusion. “Gaius, you may be the boy’s jailer; he’s not to have any visitors without my order. And NO alphas may tend to him. Only geldings, betas, and low-bred omegas.”

It wasn’t fair, thought Arthur, but at least Merlin won’t suffer in the dank dungeons.

Gaius bowed his consent, and Uther’s men hauled Merlin over to Gaius. Merlin had to put an arm around Gaius’ shoulders to keep steady. He was worse than when he had drunk the Absinthe.

“Sire, this isn’t right,” Arthur said. “You of all people know the consequences of keeping an Alpha from his Omega. Do you wish me to go on a killing spree?”

“What I wish, Arthur, is for you to marry a first wife. Afterwards, you can take as many concubines as you please. You may even have the boy, if you wish. But not until you’re wedded to an Omega princess.”

Arthur fought back the urge to run his father through. It wouldn’t be much longer, however, and he might end up doing just that. Before he could come up with more legitimate arguments, Uther dismissed everyone and abruptly left. The guards picked up and hauled Mary away. She was still unconscious from the collar.

Arthur sheathed his sword and hurried to Merlin’s side. Merlin held onto Gaius like a drowning man.

“Merlin.”

Merlin slowly looked up, head staying bent low. “Arthur…”

Arthur peeled Merlin off Gaius and lifted him into his arms. Merlin didn’t fight it -- he couldn’t fight it. His strength was sapped thanks to the collar. He buried his nose into Arthur’s neck and inhaled deeply. His lips parted automatically, the tip of his tongue slipped out and touched a pulse point on Arthur’s neck.

Arthur shivered, arms tightening around him. He moved without realizing he was. Gaius followed behind in silence.

Arthur was about to bring Merlin to his chambers, but Gaius gently reminded him that Merlin had to go to his own room.

“Gaius, what am I to do? I need to tie with my Soulmate the moment he goes into heat. If he wears this collar, I can’t…” Arthur choked.

Gaius sighed and patted Arthur gently on his back. “I know. I’ll help in any way I can. For now, let’s bring Merlin to his bed.”

Arthur stared down into his Emrys’s face, rage filling him up. “He should be brought to MY bed!”

.-.

 


	12. Viperous Vortex

Soulmate 12

 

****Viperous Vortex** **

****

A blood-curdling scream jerked Leon out of his snooze. He reacted as any hot-blooded Alpha knight would and unsheathed his sword from the scabbard hanging off his chair. There was no one around, no strange presence sensed or smelled.

Another piercing cry brought him whirling. It finally registered that the cry he’d heard had come directly from his betrothal’s bed. He immediately crossed the small space separating them and sat by her side on the edge of the bed.

“Beloved, I’m here. What’s wrong? How can I--”

“All is lost,” Morgana cried. “It’s coming true--it’s coming to its fruition. …We’re doomed…”

Leon stared blankly at her, a cold chill running down his neck. “Why do you say that, love?” he asked gently.

Morgana sat upright as if some force pushed her. She grasped Leon’s forearm with both hands, knuckles white and nails piercing.

“I don’t know how or why, but I’d just seen the __entire__  vision! Instead of everything coming at me piecemeal, I saw the whole horrible future that’ll happen…”

“But why is Camelot doomed, love? What’s the cause?”

“We--Camelot--will be without ****protection**** …” Her eyes clouded over as if she saw parts of her vision again, replaying in a torturous loop. “The one who can save us… he’s now bound in servitude. He is locked away from his magic. Therefore, he cannot stop the horror that will desecrate our kingdom.”

Leon swallowed a hard, dry lump in his throat. He stared at her, unable to speak for a moment, then: “Wait--when you say that __he__ is locked away from his magic… are you talking of Merlin?”

Morgana stared straight ahead, eyes foggy and distant. Her lips parted, as if she were about to speak, but it stayed in that position, frozen. Her hands were clenched as her eyes widened.

Leon winced, but didn’t move. He’d gladly bore the brunt of her emotions, whether good or bad. The pain of her nails digging into his skin, and breaking it, was the least he could do for her. He’d spill any blood if it’d win her heart -- even his own.

He’d just learned that evening from one of the guards about what happened during the feast. He hadn’t gone, excusing himself from it in order to be by Morgana’s side. The guard had informed him -- in a very low voice -- that Merlin, Gaius’s nephew and assistant, had used Big Magick to defend Prince Arthur from a vengeful witch. The witch, who had been Lady Helen in disguise, had been collared and hauled away to the dungeons. Straight after that, Merlin was ordered collared, even though he had just saved their lives.

Leon found that distasteful and totally uncouth. Merlin shouldn’t be punished for using his magic to save lives. Besides, from what he’d heard, Merlin belonged to the prince. Why not let Prince Arthur handle Merlin, just as he’d been handling Morgana?

Her sharp fingernails dug deeper into his skin, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Beloved, do we need to tell the king about this? It seems important.”

Morgana’s eyes were still unfocused and blurry. She gasped out: “He won’t believe us… no matter what we tell him, he’ll deny it.”

“But why? This is Camelot’s __future__  on the line. Why won’t he listen to reason?”

“He has irrational fears.” She lifted her head and closed her eyes, body unnervingly still. “He fears those with strong elemental powers -- the sorcerers who can manipulate nature and people’s willpower. He cares not for any others: the Healers, Herbalists, Seers, kitchen witches, Druids… although he should be wary of them, by his standards. Fear of magic users makes him think and see things irrationally. But these fears of his __will__  come true if he continues to keep Merlin collared, __and__ away from Arthur.”

For a moment, Leon couldn’t find the words to describe his panicky insides. Things indeed looked bleak.

“What can we do?” he finally said, voice raspy.

“We,” Morgana stressed, “can’t do anything. The future is set on many paths now, and most of those paths lead to our destruction -- thanks to Uther.”

“Can we at least warn Prince Arthur? Maybe he can get through to the king.”

“We can warn Arthur, but I doubt the king will listen to even his own son.”

“But… __why?__ ”

“He’ll think that Arthur is only acting like a lovesick fool, looking to find any excuse to release Merlin.”

Leon hung his head. “Then we can’t rely on the king to do the right thing.”

“We cannot.”

Leon looked up, stared at the eerie picture Morgana made. She was like a talking statue, her skin glowing alabaster as if she were carved. He wondered if he had lost the Morgana he knew and loved, if her powers of sight now consumed her every conscious thought, and even maybe her very soul…

The soul he desperately wished to become one with.

.-.

A pitiful whimper sounded from the bed. It tugged Arthur’s heartstrings and knotted them into an improperly tied bow. He fought down the urge to go to his Soulmate, but Gaius insisted he keep himself at least an arm’s-length apart.

Merlin struggled with the strange newness of the world he couldn’t tap into anymore. Gaius had tried to explain it to Arthur the best he could. Arthur couldn’t fathom even having powerful magic to begin with, so trying to understand how it felt to be cut off from it was incomprehensible. Gaius had said it was like losing a vital part of your body. You keep wanting to use it, but once you remember it wasn’t there anymore, you went into a horrible depression.

Arthur couldn’t relate, but he could sympathize. From what Gaius had said, magic was a big part of Merlin’s life. With it gone, what was the reason for living?

“Me,” Arthur had immediately stated. “He should live for __me__.”

“But if he can’t go into his heat--”

Arthur had cut him off by jumping from his chair and pounding his fists onto the table between them. The papers, quills, inkwells, jars, and metal contraptions all rattled and tipped dangerously.

He ran toward Merlin’s room, wanting to rip the collar off, but the door was suddenly stuck fast. He nearly broke the door handle off as he violently shook it.

“Calm yourself, Sire,” Gaius had said. “You do anything against Uther now, you might never see Merlin ever again.”

Arthur had stood there, body bowstring tight in an effort to control his temper. His hand remained on the handle, fingers white.

After a tense silence, Arthur’s body relaxed somewhat. He slumped down, knocking his forehead onto the door and left it there. It took some doing, but Gaius convinced Arthur to calm down and to think things through rationally.

“After all,” Gaius had said, “you wouldn’t wish to be branded as a bellicose Alpha, or as a Beast.”

Gaius had been right. Arthur didn’t want to start acting like a lustful monster just because his body told him to. He had more poise than that, more upstanding manners. He was, after all, a Royal Alpha -- a pure-blood. He had to show dignity and class. He had to show his royal upbringing.

So, here he was, sitting on a chair beside his Soulmate’s bed, fists clenched in his lap and learning to keep control of his emotions.

But with every pained groan emerging from Merlin’s mouth, it became more and more difficult to stay in check. He wanted to pull Merlin into his arms and press his lips to his. He wanted that deep, satisfying kiss that would seal the deal -- he needed his Emrys to infect him with his saliva, to have Emrys’ poisonous spit mingle with his powerfully charged fluids. He __had__ to become immune to Merlin, else their first tie wouldn’t fair well for him.

But with that blasted collar on, Merlin was now suppressed and couldn’t go into heat. So, what would be the point of taking Merlin’s saliva, then?

But he should. If Merlin were to ever get his collar removed, his heat would hit, and his magic would fill back up, just as Arthur’s cock would. The second Merlin was released from his fetter, there would be no stopping Arthur from claiming what was rightfully his.

Suddenly, his senses heightened, nostrils flaring madly. Intruders!

Two guards -- Uther’s trained foot soldiers -- entered Gaius’s work area. One smelled potently of alpha. To Arthur’s senses, it didn’t matter how much of an alpha that man was -- he was still a serious threat.

Arthur vaulted from his chair and charged out of Merlin’s room, sword gleaming in his hand.

“Sire--” was all the alpha guard could say before Arthur stabbed him into his unprotected side. The guard let out a gurgling gasp, blood trickling out the side of his mouth. His hands swiftly went to where sword met flesh.

“Arthur!” Gaius shouted, flabbergasted.

The other guard, who was a Beta, backed away quickly, hand to the pommel of his sword.

Arthur slowly removed his sword from the alpha guard’s body. The guard keeled over, falling to his knees, hands covered in his own blood, face ashen.

Gaius was at the alpha guard’s side once he saw that Arthur was no longer planning to use his sword again.

Quickly, and expertly, Gaius used a bit of magic to stop the blood flow. Then he gingerly helped the man off the floor and to the medical cot.

Arthur glanced at the Beta guard, twirling his sword in his hand as if deciding whether to strike him next.

“Sire,” the Beta said, and carefully, “the king wants you to obey his wishes and stay away from the boy--” He broke off when Arthur lifted his sword, but he otherwise didn’t move.

“He’s my Soulmate,” Arthur rasped. “I have my duties toward him, as the Alpha and his custodian. He’s not to be approached by anyone else, unless I say so.”

“The king, though--”

“Must abide by the rules of nature, and the laws handed down from generations of pureblood Alphas. You tell him I said that, and remind him that nobody, not even kings, are above the law of our kind.”

The Beta guard acknowledged his prince, bowed, and then hastened out the door. Two other guards stood outside, as if awaiting Arthur’s presence. The Beta ran down the hall toward the throne room. The other two guards watched in bemusement, and then looked at Arthur.

Arthur stared back, eyes blazing a warning. The guards weren’t as potent as that alpha guard he’d just injured, but they were still alphas. Arthur made to charge, sword still stained red with blood.

The guards sensed and smelled the danger in Arthur, and backed away quickly, about to run.

But Arthur’s sword didn’t hit its mark. He couldn’t move! All he could do was watch angrily as his competition got away.

The door shut itself in front of him, barring the hallway from his sight, and he moved his eyes around to glare at the one who did it.

“Forgive me, Sire,” Gaius said. “I had to stop you.”

Rage filled Arthur’s eyesight. “You… you couldn’t have… you’re only a Healer!”

Gaius’s eyes softened, and it put Arthur a little more at ease. Gaius had always been there for him, like a kindly grandfather and mentor. Whenever Gaius’ eyebrow rose in disappointment, it was usually enough to quell him. But when Gaius used that cordial stare on him, it gave him the sense that Gaius was being grandfatherly, and not authoritarian.

“I had to pretend I was only a Healer,” Gaius said, tone woeful. “I don’t know what I would have done if I were collared. I probably would have tried to take my own life.”

Anger slowly melted out of Arthur. “Is that how Merlin feels?”

“Most likely,” Gaius said sadly. “But we mustn’t let him commit suicide. He’d make many others upset if he did.”

Arthur nodded solemnly, or at least tried. He was still frozen -- except for his eyes and mouth.

“I’d probably follow him, if he did,” Arthur said.

“I know,” Gaius said gently. “So, are you calmed enough for me to release you from my spell?”

Arthur only hesitated for a moment. After a couple deep breaths, he said: “Yes… I’m calm.”

Gaius smiled, nodded, and then flicked his hand in the air.

Arthur felt control over his body return, but stayed standing where he was, staring. He was still in some shock to learn that the kindly, old physician and adviser to the king had such powers.

“How much power __do__  you have?” he dared ask.

“Enough,” was Gaius’s answer. “Not as much as Merlin, of course, but years of experience can go a long way.”

“Oh hell,” Arthur groaned. “You could take over Camelot if you wanted to.”

Gaius shook his head. “I highly doubt it.”

“You could,” Arthur insisted. “With that freezing spell you used against me -- you could undoubtedly do that to my father. He’d be completely powerless to stop you.”

“And yet, I would never do that, and either would Merlin. That’s something Uther fails to understand. It’s not magic itself that makes a person bad. It’s their heart, their mannerisms, and their beliefs that help mold them. Power can corrupt, it’s true--but one must have a decent upbringing and a good grasp on their magic, and the laws governing it. Otherwise, why trust anyone with even a sliver of magic? Why trust Healers and Druids? Why trust any kitchen witch or white mage?”

“But everyone knows that kind of magic isn’t destructive.”

“Isn’t it?” Gaius inflected. “A Healer knows poisons as well as antidotes. An Herbalist knows which plant is dangerous to eat. A kitchen witch knows their poisons, too, and how to make love and lust potions. A Druid has tons of knowledge, present and future. You don’t think they couldn’t use such knowledge for their own personal wants and pleasures?”

“All of them are corruptible?” Arthur gasped.

“It’s very possible,” Gaius said. “But highly unlikely. There’s a balance to magic, and to nature. Break that balance and the world could very well fall apart.”

“But -- __how__?”

“The best way I can explain it is by using you and Merlin as an example.”

Arthur’s throat stuck, breath halted, and his gaze swiftly went to Merlin’s door. “Oh-h?”

“Together, you two balance each other -- complete each other as one entity. Once mated, you two will be a well-working team, give and take--Alpha and Omega.”

Arthur nodded, throat tight with increasing emotion. “Emrys and Ursus,” he murmured to himself.

“If one of you were gone -- missing or dead -- then that balance would be gone. And if __one__ was gone--”

Arthur stared, dawning comprehension emerging. “Then the other one is…”

Gaius smiled, assured that Arthur finally understood.

“But,” Arthur quickly added, “what makes magic balanced? Does there have to be bad magic in order for there to be good magic?”

“In a sense,” Gaius said. “But it’s all on how its used. The bad--or dark--magic is usually considered destructive or chaos magic. Yet one can’t build without there being destruction. Otherwise you’d just build, and build, and things would keep living and growing with no end--”

“Okay, I think I get it.”

“Without darkness, there’s no light. Without evil, there’s no good. Else how could we tell them apart?”

“I get it, Gaius,” Arthur stressed.

Gaius nodded sagely. “Excellent. I best see to my patient, then. And you, Sire, better obey your father -- this once.”

Arthur opened his mouth to vehemently argue, but Gaius held up a hand to gesture silence, and Arthur found his mouth slamming shut on its own. He glared at the old magician. “Gaius--”

“You have my word that I will help you and Merlin in any way possible. This will include lying to the king, and maybe disobeying him. You have my permission to sneak in here and visit Merlin to your heart’s content. But you should pretend that you’re obeying your father, for most of the daylight hours.”

Arthur groaned and rubbed his face in misery. “How am I to survive this ordeal?”

“You’re very strong, Sire, and so is Merlin. You’ll both survive.”

.-.

He could no longer ignore his father’s summons. If he kept Uther waiting too long, he’d send more guards to look for him, and Arthur knew that if more guards came (especially the alphas), his sword would become soaked in blood.

Arthur finally found the strength to leave the infirmary and headed for the throne room. Uther knew that Arthur wanted nothing more than to be with his Soulmate. This blatant show of power over the son was deliberate. Uther wanted to exhibit his rule, that it was never in any question, no matter how irrational it was.

He entered the throne room with an angry stride, head and eyes throbbing hotly. The king wasn’t alone when he entered. On Uther’s right was Sir Hector, face openly smug and eyes bright with victory. On Uther’s left was Leon, sullen-faced and dejected. It nearly mirrored the scene when Morgana had asked for her collar to be removed. This time it looked like Leon came out the loser in the discussion.

“Arthur,” the king beckoned him closer. As the dutiful son, Arthur obeyed.

“Yes, Sire,” Arthur said stiff-necked. “You wished to speak with me?”

Uther gestured toward the knight: “Sir Hector will be Merlin’s Handler. Protocol insists that I tell you this.”

“Sire, please,” Arthur said, only a slight whine in his tone. “You can’t…”

“Prince Arthur’s right, Sire,” Leon said. “Please, I beg you. Morgana isn’t lying about what she saw. If you continue to keep Merlin collared and away from Arthur--”

“That’s enough, Sir Leon,” Uther boomed.

Hector grinned. “Yes, __Sir__  Leon, listen to the king. He’s very wise in his decision.”

Anger flared within Arthur hotter than he’d ever felt. He took a shaky half-step toward Hector. “You -- I knew you to be an obedient knight and soldier under the king’s rule, but your interference in these matters are unforgivable!”

“Interference?” Hector said with mock surprise. “I assure you, my prince, that I’m fully within my rights in this situation.”

Arthur turned to his father. “Whatever does he mean by that?”

“I chose Sir Hector to be the boy’s Handler because he was the one to have quick reflexes in that horrible ordeal. He was the one to put the Dampener on Merlin, therefore he has earned the right to be the boy’s Handler.”

Before Arthur could protest, Leon turned to him and said, “Sire, I tried my best, but all my warnings are going unheeded. Morgana had a horrible vision about Camelot’s fall if Merlin stayed collared. I know that she had warned me about the king’s denials but I really didn’t think he would--”

Arthur briefly wondered what sort of calamity would befall Camelot if his Soulmate stayed fettered, but he put the thought on the back-burner, to ask Leon later. There was another issue more important on hand.

Arthur stepped up as close as he dared to the king. “If my Soulmate stays suppressed, I cannot tie with him -- and if I can’t tie with him, you’ll have a _ _Frenzied__ Alpha on your hands.”

Uther narrowed his gaze, fearless in the face of a raging Alpha. “Is that a threat?”

“I’m stating a truth. Father. My Alpha-sense will get out of hand, and I’ll go berserk.” He lowered his voice, hoping to convey warning as well as hinting at promised violence: “You don’t want __me__ to become a Berserker, Sire. You know how well I fight.”

Uther’s lips thinned and his brow knitted. Other than that, it was difficult to know just how upset he was.

“Perhaps,” Uther finally uttered. “But I also know that if I leave a Hellion loose in my castle, I’ll be inviting all sorts of evils.”

“That’s not true!”

“You let Morgana loose, Sire,” Leon said. “And nothing bad has happened to Camelot.”

“Not so,” Uther said. He turned his glare onto Leon. “She has performed her duties poorly since the Dampening Collar was removed. She’s also speaking nonsense. I doubt the kingdom is in any sort of danger just because some sorcerer can’t use his powers. If anything, I’m preventing the danger.”

“We’d be left _ _unprotected__!” Leon cried.

“Nonsense,” Uther growled. “Camelot is as strong as ever. We don’t need any help from some piss-ant magician.”

“You don’t know that--”

“Enough, Sir Leon! You’re dismissed! Go back to pampering Morgana while you’re at it. Keep her in line, as you’d promised, or you know what will happen.”

Arthur watched Leon’s face fall, despair sparkling in his eyes.

He straightened, hoping to show more height than Uther, and look menacing and hopefully elicit a little fear out of him.

“Father, this is your final warning: remove the collar from Merlin or I’ll unleash all my Alpha rage. No one will be safe from my sword.”

A minute hint of real fear shone in Uther’s eyes, but then it was gone. Steel replaced fear, and it made Arthur wonder how Uther could fear magic more than a rampaging Alpha.

After a minute of silent staring, Uther looked away, head quickly snapping to one side. He growled low: “Leave me.”

Arthur stared, mind whirling on what he could say that would make Uther see sense. But nothing came forth. Arthur came to the slow realization that whatever he said -- whatever logical reason he produced -- would get denied or ignored. Uther’s fear was so deep in the abyss he couldn’t see the light of day shining down on him from the sky.

“I said, you’re dismissed,” Uther shouted. “All of you!”

Leon was the first to obey, head hung low and eyes shining with unshed tears. His mouth pressed into a hard line, corners trembling. It nearly brought tears to Arthur’s own eyes just witnessing it.

The guards then left, realizing Uther had meant them too. Arthur watched them go, not wanting to look at Uther. His head throbbed and his throat ached. He knew the cause, yet he knew he couldn’t ease any of it.

“That means you, too, Arthur,” Uther ordered. “Go.”

Finally, Arthur turned and left the throne room with stubborn slowness. The double doors slammed shut behind him as he focused on walking with a steady gait. To all who saw him, he looked totally in control and very proper. He was the perfect example of Alpha prince-hood.

Yet, on the inside, he burned with a rage so great it hurt his very being. His heart and soul cried out to be with his Soulmate, but he fought it. And fighting it was not a smart idea. He began to feel ill.

He was about to order a servant to tell Morris he wanted the target and his knives when he saw Gwaine and Lancelot walking toward him. They were in the middle of a conversation, and when they were close enough, Arthur heard Gwaine say: “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lancelot said. “I will love my child no matter what gender.”

Gwaine smiled and nodded at that, then suddenly chuckled and said: “What if it were twins?”

“Still doesn’t matter,” Lancelot immediately stated. “I plan on having more than one anyway--oh, good evening, Sire.”

As Lancelot halted in his tracks, addressing Arthur properly, Gwaine skidded to a stop and stepped back in shock. The second Gwaine sensed Arthur’s intense aura, he shivered for a moment before forcing himself steady.

“Bloody hell, Arthur--” Gwaine began, but the heated glance Arthur shot him brought him to a stuttering halt.

“Which one of you will let me pummel them to a bloody pulp?”

Gwaine and Lancelot stood rigid, mouths slightly agape and staring eyes unblinking.

A few frantic heartbeats later, and Lancelot pushed Gwaine toward Arthur.

“What the bleeding fuck, mate!” Gwaine gasped.

Lancelot took a couple steps back. “Sorry, Sir Gwaine, but I can’t get pummeled today. Gwen needs me to be there for her, and I can’t do it if I’m gravely injured and in the infirmary.”

Gwaine gave him a wounded look. “I don’t believe you’d ever do such a thing to a fellow knight!”

“My mate comes first in all things, now,” Lancelot explained quickly as he kept backing away. “In fact, I think I’ve been gone too long. I better get back…”

“But we just left your place!” Gwaine griped.

Lancelot was already jogging off, not looking back.

“Traitor!” Gwaine called after him. Slowly, after an unnerving silence, Gwaine turned and faced Arthur. “Er, Sire? How ‘bout a rain-cheque? My mate, erm… I mean my soon-to-be mate… is expecting me, um… and soon. Maybe I could call your gelding and he could--”

The sound of Arthur’s sword sliding out of its sheath cut Gwaine off. He scanned the area as if looking for an escape route.

“Outside,” Arthur demanded sternly. “Now.”

“I, uh, don’t have my sword--”

“It is belted at your hip.”

Gwaine looked down in mock surprise. “Oh! So it is. I forgot--”

“Outside,” Arthur snapped, eyes blurring with rage. “Don’t make me force you.”

Gwaine walked backwards down the hall as Arthur advanced. Gwaine raised his hands. “Arthur, me old mate, let’s not became a rabid beast now… you’re not really upset with __me__ , right? I’m guessing it’s the king--”

He nearly tripped over as Arthur’s pace quickened. He swiftly righted himself.

“Get to the training field,” Arthur growled. The scent, look, and feeling pouring off Arthur ramped up Gwaine’s Alpha instincts, not to mention fear. Arthur was clearly the dominate Alpha between them, and he knew there was no way to get out of this -- and no way he would win.

“What purpose would it serve if you pummeled me, Sire?” he tried to reason.

“To stop me from killing people,” came Arthur’s swift reply.

“Good purpose,” Gwaine said. He quickly unsheathed his sword to block Arthur’s wild swing.

He was powerless to stop his prince, but he understood why, and he understood he had no choice. The carving anger that burned within Arthur would not be quenched unless he had the proper outlet. Without it, Arthur would be on a killing spree right now, and the king would most likely be dead, too.

Neither of them had a shield, and Gwaine wasn’t sure if it was proper at the moment to ask for a time-out so as to get one. Instead, Gwaine concentrated deeply on Arthur’s movements so he could parry and block. It probably wouldn’t be right to try striking the prince either. How was he to come out of this unscathed?

He could only fight his opponent with the subtle surroundings they were in. The training field had very little on obstacles to use to his advantage, so he’d have to rely on his quick reflexes and defensive tactics.

As Arthur moved in a swift, cat-like dance, and Gwaine blocked and parried, Gwaine soon realized that Arthur’s frenzy was more controlled than he’d first feared.

Arthur was an excellent fighter -- the best Albion had ever seen -- but he also had a compassion that rivaled his skills as a swordsman. Arthur wasn’t fighting to kill, and that eased a lot of the tension from his muscles.

 _ _I’m not afraid of Arthur,__ Gwaine told himself. __Not at this moment… Arthur isn’t looking to kill. He just wants release…__

It was a sparring session like he’d never experienced before. It came close to when Arthur attacked him for getting Merlin’s scent on him, but the unfocused rage wasn’t present. Because of this knowledge, Gwaine’s reflexes slowed, and he didn’t bring up his sword in time.

Arthur’s motions were poetic, beautiful in its fluidity, and on the mark. The moment Arthur realized that Gwaine wasn’t going to block in time it was too late to stop.

The edge of Arthur’s sword sliced a neat gash through Gwaine’s shirt and cut deep in the skin. Blood splattered out, staining his shoulder and Arthur’s sword. Gwaine stifled a cry, backed up a few steps. He couldn’t stop, though. Arthur might have paused a moment after getting first blood, but his urge to keep fighting was strong.

Gwaine took the moment to immediately call out: “You win, Sire. I yield.”

“Hah!” Arthur shouted. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Are we doing two out of three?” Gwaine asked. “Or is it three out of five?”

“It’s however long I want.”

“So…” Gwaine hedged, backing away as Arthur kept advancing. “Four out of seven?”

“When I say we’re done!” Arthur growled.

Gwaine brought his sword up in time, cringing from the pain in his shoulder. “Fair enough… but why fight me when--when there’s a Soulmate for you… for you to woo?”

Their swords slid in a deadly dance, beads of perspiration on their faces. Muscles bunched and teeth ground together.

Then Arthur suddenly stepped back and Gwaine fell forward into the muddy grass, groaning loudly when his injured shoulder smacked into earth.

Blurry-eyed, Gwaine rolled over and looked up into his prince’s face. The rage that had been there had eased, and was almost absent. The scowl on Arthur’s face stayed, though, as did the red-hot coals in his eyes. When Arthur moved away and slowly went to the other side of the field, Gwaine released a big sigh and sat up. His shoulder twinged, reminding him that he better take care of it or he might bleed to death. Or get an infection.

Gwaine stood from the ground, watching Arthur put his sword away onto a rack for a servant to take care of, then sat heavily onto a bench. Gwaine stayed still a moment, taking in the sight: Arthur was slumped, head down and shoulders slack. He didn’t look at all like a conquering hero or the winner of any duel. He’d never seen his prince look so dejected and sullen. It was as if someone had told him that his favorite puppy had just died.

Quickly deciding to forego the infirmary (besides, he hated needles!), Gwaine ripped off his shirt sleeve and tied it around his wound. The sleeve had been ruined anyway when Arthur had sliced into him.

Cautiously, he made his way to Arthur and sat beside him. Arthur glanced at him and then quickly away.

“Go see Gaius,” Arthur grumbled. “He’ll take care of your wound.”

“Later,” Gwaine said. “Right now I’m more worried about you.”

Arthur snorted in disbelief.

“Hey, am I your best friend or not?” Gwaine said.

“Lancelot’s my best friend.”

“You really know how to hurt a guy, physically and mentally.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I care about you, too.”

“Strange way of showing it, Sire.” Gwaine grasped his injury lightly.

“I didn’t kill you, did I?” Arthur glanced up at him. “I gave you a fighting chance.”

“I suppose… anyway, about this Soulmate of yours--”

Arthur growled low in his throat.

Gwaine raised his hands in surrender. “I mean to say that you can use the Dampening Collar to your advantage.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “What advantage?”

Gwaine grinned. “Why not just put a leash on that collar and drag him to your bedchamber?”

Arthur stared, eyes wide and gleaming with growing pleasure.

.-.

Waking up alone wasn’t unusual for Merlin. He actually half expected Arthur not to be around when he woke. It was the scene that he walked in on when he left his bedchamber that left him confused.

One of Uther’s guards lay on the medical cot, Gaius standing over him with needle and thread in hand. Sir Hector stood in a corner by the door, body half-hidden in shadow, arms crossed. Merlin immediately detected two types of scents: one was his Soulmate, and it was a very pleasant musk. It hovered in the air faintly, but Merlin’s nostrils easily picked it up. Arthur had been there.

The other smell came from Hector, and this scent was anything but pleasant. It was very brackish, and it made his nose ache unpleasantly.

“Good, you’re up,” Gaius said after glancing up at Merlin. “I need your help with some stuff--”

Hector stepped out from the shadow. “Actually, Merlin’s mine for the day.”

Gaius shot the knight a heated glare. “As I have told you when you entered, very rudely I might add, I have need of Merlin. He’s still my assistant.”

“But I’m his Handler,” Hector said tersely. “I have the authority to use him in any way--” He stopped short when Gaius moved away from his patient and was suddenly in the knight’s face. His movement was so quick, Merlin suspected that Gaius used a bit of magic.

“He’s mine for a few hours,” Gaius whispered harshly. “You may have him when I’m done with him. If you don’t agree to those terms, you may have to be careful with what you drink or eat from now on.”

“And what does that mean?” Hector demanded.

“It means -- Sir Hector -- that I might slip a little something into your food or drink, and it won’t be anything pleasant. Now go away.”

There was a stare down for almost a full minute. Merlin thought for sure that Hector wasn’t going to listen, and that he might even make a challenge. But, finally, after a nerve-wracking second later, Hector moved away from Gaius and walked out the door without a word.

Gaius let out a relieved sigh and went back to work on his patient.

“Thanks, Gaius,” Merlin said. “I don’t think I’m ready to deal with having a Handler yet.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Gaius said. He tied off a piece of thread and reached for the surgical scissors. “Besides, if Arthur smelled Hector on you now, he’d most likely kill him.”

“I think that would be for the better.”

“And get the king angry with Arthur?” Gaius shook his head forlornly. “I do understand your feelings on this, Merlin, but we must consider the consequences of our actions. I know it’s hard to believe that it’s the right thing to do, but we must abide the king’s word. At least, make it appear as if we are.”

Merlin stared. “What do you mean by that?”

Gaius calmly finished his work on his patient and went to the washing basin. He began to clean his hands thoroughly. “What I mean,” he finally stated, “is that I will do everything I can to help you and Arthur. You two must make it look like you’re obeying his wishes, during the daytime when he’s around. But in the later evenings and at night--”

Merlin’s over-loud gasp cut him off. “Gaius, you don’t mean…”

Gaius allowed a small smile to form, nodding his head. “It means I’ll allow Arthur to visit you whenever he is able.”

Merlin felt hot blood flowing into his face. He tried not to smile as his mind replayed what Gaius had just told him.

He knew his Ursus now -- inside and out. Once they’d spoke each other’s soul names aloud, he felt he’d known Arthur since he were a baby. Of course, he didn’t know any details of Arthur’s life; he just knew the way Arthur’s mind and heart worked. He __knew__ him. He knew his Ursus. And it was the same for Arthur: he knew Merlin, knew his heart and soul.

Arthur wasn’t a bully, and he wasn’t some over-sized ogre of an alpha, either. Arthur had heart, and he cared for others… he just didn’t like showing it in public, because then he’d become too vulnerable, and word might get back to his enemies about any weaknesses.

Merlin got that. He didn’t like showing his enemies any weaknesses either.

“Now that you’re up, and obviously feeling better, you can help me,” Gaius said. He pointed at the tank filled with many kinds of helpful creatures, some bred for potions. “I need that cleaned out and the dead species put into their proper tubes. They can be chopped up later.”

Merlin made a disgusted face, but did as he was told. It was better than being with an idiotic Handler.

.-.

The unease faded and Arthur grew more and more elated the closer he got to Gaius’s.

The overwhelming grey-shadowed emotions that had been swirling within felt more controlled--veiled in a cottony mask. The bitterness that had been filling his heart was nothing but a small stain, now. The back of his head itched with both pain and pleasure. His heart beat with both darkness and light. He’d felt some of the darkness grow, but the closer he got to where his Emrys resided, the lighter it grew.

It was balance. Gaius had been right. They had to be together, had to find that inner balance within, as they were about to complete their bond. And he would do it, no matter who got in his way.

Arthur slammed open the infirmary’s door, and it banged against the wall. Gaius and Merlin jumped from the sudden noise, staring toward the opened door with wide eyes.

Merlin was on his hands and knees, a glass tank tipped on its side and test tubes in racks strewed around him. In his right hand was a dirty sponge, and it was being pressed wetly against the stone floor. Merlin stared up at him, agape, hair tousled and face pink.

There was a smudge of something dark on Merlin’s cheek and nose, and as he knelt there on the wet floor, Arthur couldn’t help but notice that Merlin’s knees were wide in his stance -- probably to keep from slipping in the mess -- and his arse was right there, in all its shapely glory, high in the air. Arthur had to wipe the bottom of his lip.

“A-Arthur,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur tried not to goggle at Merlin in a crazy way, but his eyes must look half wild by the way Merlin’s eyes gleamed with worry.

Arthur suddenly realized that he didn’t want anyone watching him complete their bond, so he shut the door behind him forcefully, all while keeping his sight set on Merlin.

“My Emrys,” Arthur breathed. He took a couple steps forward, then realized that they still weren’t alone. He’d forgotten all about Gaius. He turned a reddened gaze at the old man.

Gaius raised his hands in surrender. “I know, I should leave. But I must warn you both that someone might come looking for you. It’s not quite evening yet,” he turned to Arthur and bowed. “With all due respect, Sire.”

“I know,” Arthur snapped. “But this is important.”

“All right,” Gaius said. He carefully made his way to the door. Before he left, he gave Merlin a significant look. Merlin knew what that warning meant, but Merlin was only going to listen to his instincts. Gaius then closed the door behind him softly.

Arthur stood there a while, staring. He knew he didn’t have time to waste, but he couldn’t help himself. Merlin was a lovely sight, for his sore eyes and his aching skull. Merlin wasn’t in heat, but Merlin’s essence still stimulated his senses to the breaking point. Merlin’s musky rose scent was both torture and a balm. If Merlin asked him to go strangle the king right now, he’d do it.

But he knew Merlin, and he knew his soul -- there was no way Merlin would be so cruel, no matter what Uther did to them. Merlin’s heart was too big, and at times, too sensitive. The instinct for rightness came naturally to Merlin, and Arthur then wondered how he could ever think Merlin might become a menace to the kingdom.

As he stepped forward, he produced a black leather leash with a silvery clip at the end.

Merlin swallowed nervously, eyeing the tether as if Arthur held a deadly snake. “W-what--”

Arthur bent low, face inches away from Merlin’s, and used the hand not holding the leash to tuck two fingers into the tight space between Merlin’s neck and collar.

“Just enough room,” he said, voice almost a whisper.

Merlin gulped against Arthur’s fingers, throat dry. “Arthur?”

The gentle press of fingers against bare throat brought their attentions to a single point, greying out the rest of the background. Nothing else existed except for them, and no one else that existed was more important.

“You are mine,” Arthur breathed. “Aren’t you, Emrys?”

All the air seemed to have been punched out of his lungs. “Yes… I’m all yours, Ursus.”

“No one else can have you,” Arthur snarled, demanding.

“No one else,” Merlin promised.

“Not even all the gods in all the known heavens,” Arthur crooned. Keeping his fingers curled around the collar, he flicked the latch on the clip at the end of the leash and hooked it in. It almost didn’t click shut, but with a slight toggle, the clip clicked. The sound of it brought Merlin’s heart racing.

“Not even the gods…” Merlin echoed.

“Nor all the demons of the Underworld,” Arthur growled. “You’re mine and only mine.”

“Only yours--” Merlin choked.

Arthur jerked the leash upward, and their lips met painfully.

A wild flutter grew in Merlin’s stomach as Arthur’s tongue coaxed his lips apart. He consented, opening his mouth and letting Arthur in. The kiss was a soothing caress in the beginning, soft and tickling. Merlin’s body reacted out of instinct and he was soon seeping saliva. Arthur drank it greedily, devouring every tangy drop, every sour taste. His stomach burned from the acidic poison, and for a wild moment he thought he would hurl it all back into Merlin’s mouth. But it stayed there, aching and inflaming his insides.

Merlin whimpered and grasped the sides of Arthur’s head, keeping him still. The kiss grew deeper, their bodies pulled closer, and soon they melted against each other as they shared a crushing kiss.

In his eagerness, Arthur leaned in too far and suddenly they were on the wet, cold floor in a heap.

“Ow--” Merlin gasped.

“Are you all right?”

“My elbow hit the floor--”

“Well, your knee almost found my groin--”

“I could have smacked my head--”

“Wouldn’t want to ravish you while you were unconscious. Where’s the fun in that?”

Merlin chuckled. “Oh, shut up. You’d wait until I was awake first.”

“Maybe,” Arthur said. They shared a smile. Then Arthur leaned in and cradled Merlin’s head in both hands. “Anyway, where were we?”

“Not on a cold, wet floor from what I recall.”

“So fussy.”

“Not fussy,” Merlin said. “Just uncomfortable.”

“I’ve got a remedy for that.”

Arthur got up on his feet without a hitch and proceeded to help Merlin up. Merlin slid a bit, but Arthur steadied him. Merlin grasped Arthur’s arms and rested his forehead onto Arthur’s chest.

“Thanks,” he mumbled into it.

Arthur wrapped the leash tightly around his knuckles. “Oh, you’ll thank me plenty, and soon.”

He led Merlin around the wet floor and to the work table and bench. Arthur then shamelessly pushed Merlin against the table’s edge and pressed his body against his. Merlin convulsed, mind blanking from the sudden closeness. Arthur gripped Merlin’s sides and hauled him up onto the table. The few items that Gaius had left there fell or was knocked over. Arthur pulled the leash taut, forcing Merlin’s head forward, and took him in another devouring kiss. Merlin arched his body in response, Arthur’s free hand finding the dip in Merlin’s lower back.

That hand crept under Merlin’s shirt and found bare skin. Merlin’s body went rigid and his mouth became slack. Arthur plunged Merlin’s mouth with his tongue as his fingers lightly skimmed the blemish free skin of Merlin’s back.

The kiss went from urgent to soft slowness. His tongue moved in Merlin’s mouth in a slow, delicious swirl, savoring Merlin’s potent taste, indulging in the sour-sweetness of it. His head swam from the amount of Merlin’s poison, and his heart beat erratically, but his mind was clear and his soul sang in harmony with Merlin’s.

The Bond was complete. Anyone who’d dare try touching Merlin now would find the business end of his sword. He had staked his claim, had captured and conquered his mate, and now the only thing left for them was to wait until Merlin’s heat.

And whenever that was, neither of them knew.

He drew Merlin as close as he could without having to climb into his skin. He wanted to take Merlin here and now, without waiting for Merlin’s heat. But Arthur was no Beast, and he certainly wasn’t a Barbarian. Those type of alphas were a disgrace. One didn’t simply take someone as their mate by force. It was rude, beastly, and outdated. Alphas had learned to respect Omegas, because if it weren’t for them, their pureblood lines would have died out ages ago.

Merlin pulled back, eyes downcast. Arthur took that moment to stare at his beloved Soulmate, to ogle the sweet contours and angles in his face, and appreciate the small indents and curves. Merlin’s profile was striking, and held an uncommon beauty. The shape of his nose, the lines of his cheeks and forehead, the soft maleness of his lips, his jutting chin and firm jawline.

And those eyes. Lord, he adored those bewitching blue eyes. The contrast between the blueness of his irises and the blackness of his lashes did funny things to Arthur. His stomach swooped and his heart raced. Was it possible that he was in love, or was it simply the instincts of needing to mate? Whichever it was, it played havoc on his mind.

The leash started slipping out of his hand, jerking Arthur back from his struggling emotions. He swiftly recovered, grasping the leash again before it dropped to the floor.

Merlin glanced up into Arthur’s face, eyes opened a small fraction. Dots of gold were sprinkled within the dark blue.

Arthur returned the slit-eyed look with one of his own. He might not have magic sparking in his eyes, but he knew they were coloured in a most pleasing way. So he’d been told.

“I may know your heart,” Merlin said. “And your soul, but do I really know your mind?”

“My mind is an open book… for you, at least, my Emrys.”

“We can’t lie to each other in our shared dreams, but in person…”

Arthur sensed the slight hesitation in Merlin. “Our Bond is complete now. Why would I want to lie to you?”

“But we’re not mates, yet.”

“I promise, I will do everything within my power to tell you the truth as I know it.”

“I guess the wooing stage is for us to learn of each others’ minds.”

“Not just the courting, but close intimacy, and many conversations.”

Merlin smiled, almost coy. “With close intimacy, we’ll know each others’ bodies, too.”

Arthur’s nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. His heartbeats started to thump unevenly, and he sensed they were almost in time with Merlin’s own ungainly beats. He tried to force himself into calmness, lest he ravage Merlin right there on the work table.

Merlin inhaled Arthur’s scent, aware of his own aroma reacting. He grew more aware of Arthur’s body against his, the heat radiating off him and being soaked up by his body. Most of his nerves disappeared the moment he had smelled Arthur’s unique, musky scent. A sudden, strange mewling came from between them, and Merlin realized a few moments later that it had come from him.

When Arthur began to move away, the pain in his body -- the feeling of emptiness -- returned with a vengeance. Merlin hurled himself forward and clung onto Arthur with uncanny strength. It was so sudden and powerful a grip, it nearly took Arthur off his feet. But in return, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin in equal strength. It wasn’t only their souls that wished not to separate.

They clutched each other hard, heartbeats lined up and cheeks pressed taut. They took solace in each others’ embrace and immense closeness. Merlin’s cooled body -- thanks to the loss of his connection to his magic -- stayed nicely warm from Arthur’s body. He was imbued with Arthur’s warmth just as Arthur was imbued with his poison.

As they continued to hold each other, their auras illuminated their bodies, engulfing them in a bright radiance. Their souls were signaling to each other -- singing and dancing together. Their bond was done, their souls intermingled, and the unique poison pounding in their veins pulsed rhythmically.

Arthur felt a wild sense pulsing through him. Merlin wasn’t in heat, and still Arthur reacted to their closeness. The Bond they had was strong -- Gaius had been right -- and it made him wonder if it was strong enough to pierce through the collar’s barrier.

He didn’t want to force himself on Merlin, but the way Merlin had reacted toward him ever since he’d walked in…

Arthur grasped Merlin’s arse cheeks and hauled him up against him. Merlin automatically threw his arms around Arthur’s neck and held on as Arthur carried him toward his room.

Merlin hid his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck, taking in the alpha scent that emitted from his skin. It had a great calming effect on him. The hard, musky scent fluttered round his nose and shattered his senses. Merlin suddenly realized that he didn’t care where he was or where he was going. As long as his Soulmate held him, kept him safe from other alphas, that was all that mattered.

Arthur kicked the door in, and its hinges snapped off. It hung there for a few seconds, swinging wildly at an angle, before falling to the floor. He hitched Merlin higher into his arms and walked on the fallen door and into Merlin’s room. Merlin was so far gone in his Soulmate’s scent that he hadn’t a clue about his surroundings.

Merlin’s bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing Arthur had been on, but it was better than the cold, wet floor of the infirmary. He gently lay Merlin on the bed, pulled his head back from his shoulder, and pressed his mouth onto his. Merlin didn’t need much coaxing. He gladly opened wide and moaned around Arthur’s tongue. Merlin tightened his hold around Arthur, squeezing his thighs around Arthur’s middle, hoping his hint was realized.

Merlin had to remove his arms from Arthur’s neck, Arthur’s weight and scent overwhelming him. Out of instinct, Merlin lifted his hands up and braced against the wall. Arthur settled himself between Merlin’s spread thighs and slowly started to rock against him. Merlin trembled, rocking up into Arthur’s hard movements, pressing back against the wall above him. Arthur nearly crushed him now, a delightful hard press of muscles and hot skin. Merlin felt as if he were melting into his mattress.

When Arthur finally released his mouth, panting heavily, Merlin tilted his head up and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by it all. He panted too, and Arthur tried to continue kissing, even as they kept gasping for breath. Arthur licked around Merlin’s lips, cleaning up the excess spit, and plunging his tongue into Merlin’s open mouth, swirling his tongue with Merlin’s.

Arthur was hard as hell, but he wasn’t sure whether he could do anything about it. He rocked and thrust harder against Merlin’s groin, shuddering Merlin’s hips to a stop. Merlin was being pinned, he couldn’t move any lower part of his body. He just melted into the mattress and whimpered as Arthur pushed and pushed against him, a bruising force.

“I must have my mate,” Arthur gasped out.

Merlin moaned shrilly as his cock gave an agreeable pulse. “Yes, I need you, too…”

“You aren’t in heat.”

“No…” Merlin panted.

Arthur’s hips slowed. Almost as an afterthought, he brought a hand down between Merlin’s legs and slid it inside his trousers. Merlin gasped out a whimper when Arthur found the very achy center of his need. Arthur gently inserted a finger. Merlin squirmed.

“It’s not wet,” Arthur said, voice low and forlorn.

“Not in heat,” Merlin said into his ear.

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Arthur gently coaxed the puckered dry muscle to open, but it resisted as he feared. Merlin gasped in pain. “I am not liking this suppression on you.”

“I’m not too crazy about it myself.”

Arthur suddenly grasped hold of each side of the collar and tried to rip it in half. Even with all his strength, Arthur couldn’t get it off.

“It takes a special thing to--”

“I know,” Arthur said. He knew very well what it took to get the collar off, but he still had to try.

The insurmountable odds that weighed against them caused a very uncomfortable pounding in his head. Just the thought of having someone else handling Merlin in his absence brought a rage so immersing that he thought he’d turn frenetic. There was no telling what he’d do in such a state of mind. He worried that if he went into a frenzy he might accidentally harm Merlin.

Still, he felt a mounting heat spread throughout his body, and his eyes glazed over as he stared down at his Soulmate. It was a hectic and restless need that set his senses aquiver, and his nostrils flared and took in the richness of Merlin’s scent.

Heat upon heat mounted within his veins. His vision blurred.

Merlin’s eyes lidded, his chin titled, as his nose wriggled cutely. He could sense Arthur’s mood, and the change in his aura. With their scents now intermingled, and their soul names known, it was easy for him to know what Arthur was considering by just looking at him.

There was a sudden animal grin on his face. Merlin shivered in needy anticipation.

Arthur was suddenly heavier on his chest as he lowered himself down, blanketing them in a lightless aura that surrounded only them. Merlin closed his eyes, found himself heaving for breath, emotions on high. A sharp spike of feeling -- an adrenaline -- gnawed at him. A cascade of want and need enshrouded him, and the outside world seemed to fall away. He tipped his chin up.

Merlin’s heart pounded loudly in his chest as the first hint of Arthur’s breath hit his neck. He tried to bring himself to calmness, but it escaped him. The sensation of Arthur on top of him, over him, so weighty, was both magnetic and terrifying. He felt himself caught up in it all, in the sheer heat and weight of him.

He started to shake, as his magic tried to manifest itself. Unfortunately, the collar put a stop to it, pulsing in an odd rhythm that matched his magic.

A hard shiver coursed through him, bringing him close to tears. He was so frustrated he wanted to lash out, but the warm weight of Arthur atop him brought him back to calmness.

He was suddenly hyperaware of Arthur. He realized in that instant what Arthur planned to do.

And the world seemed to disappear as Arthur latched his mouth onto Merlin’s neck.

Arthur sealed his lips around that pale skin and sucked. He heard Merlin gasp, felt his shaking against him, sensed his Omega-essence seeping out of his pores. Gently, he lifted his mouth from Merlin’s neck. He marveled at the bright red spot he’d created there for a moment before glancing up at Merlin’s face.

Merlin’s head was thrown back in abandon, lips plush and quivering. His hair was tousled against the pillow, strands sticking to his sweaty skin. His long lashes were concealing those lovely blue eyes. His eyelids fluttered, as if fighting to stay closed. Arthur kept staring, hoping he’d open them, if only for a moment.

Merlin’s features were a delicacy he hoped never to tire from.

Merlin’s eyes opened partially, staring straight ahead. As if sensing him staring, Merlin glanced down at Arthur. When blue met blue, they shared a mental shudder while suppressing a physical one.

Merlin closed his eyes again, unable to speak past the tightening constriction in his throat. His need for his Soulmate compressed within him, causing a full-body shiver. He felt a strange kind of panic seeping into him, and an overwhelming surge of agony in his chest sent a wave of grief to physically and emotionally surge out of him.

Arthur softly gasped just as the emotional wave hit him. His mate suffered as much as he, maybe more, and his own emotions flew into a near catatonic frenzy.

He smashed his mouth onto Merlin’s and they panted and gasped into the wild kiss.

“I must have you,” Arthur breathed in between each sweeping movements of their mouths. “I need to become one with you--”

“We… we’re almost there,” Merlin panted out. The mingling muskiness between them burst out, enveloping them in a fragrant cloud. The Dampener blocked his magic, and his heat, but it couldn’t block out his soul and heart.

“Not close enough,” Arthur growled low as he pressed his body as close as he could against Merlin’s. Merlin was pleasantly pressed down into the mattress, not a bit of light between them.

Merlin automatically wrapped his arms around his Soulmate and hooked his legs around his thighs. Arthur pushed his groin against Merlin’s.

“Aren’t we still in the courting stage?” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Arthur whispered. “Technically, we are. And I wish to continue being overgenerous with you.”

Merlin felt his cheeks warm from a different reason other than Arthur’s close proximity. “You don’t need to--”

“It’s tradition, especially for royals like me.” Arthur looked Merlin straight in the eye, elbows bracketing his face. “What do you think the other royal alphas will say if I don’t?”

“Just tell them that it’s what your Omega wishes.”

“And be considered whipped? It’ll be hard enough that they’ll know you’re an Adamant.”

“If they suspect anything, just tell them that we’re quarreling.”

Arthur snorted and shook his head. “True Soulmates do not quarrel.”

“That’s not to say they can’t,” Merlin stressed. “After all, they already know that I’m Adamant, right? And they know that things aren’t going as smooth with the Mating Right…”

Arthur kept shaking his head. “They’ll just tell me to put you in line.”

“And how can you when I’m not completely your mate yet?”

Arthur leaned in and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s. Their breaths were hot between them.

They stared into each other’s eyes--taking in each contour and line found there. The light in the room began to wane, slowly engulfing them in a cozy blanket of darkness.

Arthur pressed a heavy kiss onto Merlin’s lips. He put most of his weight into that kiss, and Merlin allowed it, enjoying the hardness of his body compressing him into the bed.

Consuming heat mounted between them, locking them in a timeless kiss and enshrouding them from the outside world. Arthur could no longer taste anything acidic in Merlin’s saliva, in his kisses, because he was now immune. Where there was once a tangy, acrid taste there was now a savory, honeyed flavor with a hint of rose petals and cinnamon.

Merlin wasn’t in heat, but their make-out session still affected him. His hardness pushed achingly against the inside of his trousers, staining them with the proof of his need. He felt himself trembling with the effort to stay calm, felt sweat beginning to bathe his body. He could smell, and feel, that Merlin was just as affected.

In a sudden instant, Arthur grasped the hair on the back of Merlin’s head, and continued with marking his neck. Merlin squirmed and grunted, thrusting himself in time with Arthur’s movements. Arthur’s hands hurt, curled tightly against Merlin’s scalp, nails scraping and biting into the skin. He added a sharp bite to his kiss, and Merlin cried out.

The door to the infirmary slammed open, and they didn’t register what was happening until Arthur was being subdued with an anesthetic-soaked rag and pulled back.

Merlin lay there, dazed and wondering why it’d got so cold suddenly. He realized a second later it was because Arthur was no longer on him. He quickly sat up.

Four strong guards were hauling Arthur away, each holding one of his limbs and dragging him out. The one grasping Arthur’s right arm had a hand pressing a rag to Arthur’s face.

Merlin was still reeling from the heated snogging, so his limbs didn’t want to cooperate with his mind. He staggered ungainly after Arthur and his captors.

Gaius came running out of his privy room in the back, drying his hands with a towel. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“King’s orders--” one of the guards began.

“Leave him alone,” Merlin cried. He waved frantically at them. “Do something, Gaius! They haven’t the right--”

“I’m afraid they do, Merlin,” Gaius said sullenly. “I did warn Arthur what might happen if he was here with you now.”

Merlin, undeterred, chased the men down as they hauled Arthur to his bedchambers. In his haste to follow, Merlin forgot that he was still wearing the leash, and it trailed behind him like a tail.

His freedom was condemned. He was jerked back by a sudden force pulling on his leash. The leather on his collar was stiff enough where it didn’t really tighten, but the sensation of the pull was surprising, and he had to gasp.

“There’s my troublesome subordinate,” Hector said with a gloating grin. “Let’s get you occupied in something a little more toiling and less idling about.”

Emotions still ran high within Merlin, and the sudden break from his Soulmate gave his heart and head such a painful throb that it was hard to think rationally about anything. The only thought running through his mind was to get to his Soulmate, and to save him, and nothing else mattered. If anyone were to get in his way, they were the enemy. He couldn’t use his magic, so there was only one defense left to him:

He spat in Hector’s eye.

Merlin ran down the hall, leaving a screaming and afflicted Hector in his wake. His saliva was poisonous to all except Arthur, now. If Hector didn’t go back to the infirmary and get an antidote, he could be in for many days of illness. What Merlin did wasn’t enough to kill, unfortunately, but it would put Hector out of commission if not seen to immediately.

He glanced back over his shoulder before turning the corner, and indeed Hector was heading toward the infirmary. It was a break Merlin didn’t think he’d get when Hector first got hold of the leash. Now that he thought of it, he was surprised that the potion-soaked rag trick wasn’t used on him, too.

Once he caught up to the guards, and they were carrying Arthur across his chamber’s threshold, Merlin found he had a weariness in him that he’d never felt before. His muscles seemed to ache in a way that his heart and head did. The ache was full-bodied, and it started to dull his senses.

Was he becoming ill? Was an Ague setting in?

But those Omega agues only happened when the omega was in heat and nothing was being done about it. Still, he wasn’t being allowed to tie with his Soulmate, and they’d just been rudely interrupted… but it still didn’t make sense that he’d get one now. The collar was suppressing his heat; therefore, he shouldn’t be affected.

Whatever it was that irritated his body was no picnic. But he didn’t want to go back to the infirmary either, for fear that Hector would still be there.

So Merlin tried to sneak passed the guards and into Arthur’s chambers, but they caught him by the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

“You’re not allowed to enter,” the alpha guard grunted.

“Well, you’re not allowed to keep me from my mate!” Merlin fired back.

The two guards standing in front of Arthur’s closed door lifted their halberds. Merlin had no choice but to back off.

“King’s orders,” the guard sneered.

Merlin gave the man one last glare before turning to leave. He couldn’t go to the infirmary yet, so the only place he could think of was Gwen’s.

As he stepped out into the courtyard and made his way toward Gwen and Lancelot’s home, the sun dropped slowly passed the horizon. His steps slowed as his gaze drifted toward the amazing sunset. Reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, and white limned the horizon. Merlin’s feet came to a halt as he found himself gazing at the colours in awe.

He stood there until all the colours were gone, and just a sliver of sunlight breached the edge of the horizon. It immediately put a sharp pang of longing within him. Oddly enough, he thought about his mother. He recollected the promise he made her. He thought about Will, and whether or not he succeeded in his quest for a princess.

And he thought about the Druid Elder and that damn prophecy of his. It kept him rooted to the spot as dread surfaced above all other emotion. He was nearly frozen in terror. What if the old soothsayer had been messing with him? What if he, Merlin, were part of a bigger plan? What if he were a pawn?

But he couldn’t be. Druids weren’t raised to use their powers to do selfish deeds. Only once in history had a druid rebelled, but that was eons ago. No other druid would dare follow in that man’s footsteps.

 _ _Power can still corrupt those that stray too far from the light,__ Merlin reluctantly recalled. __Fear can help that corruption along… and we’ve many things to fear these days.__

Merlin was interrupted from his ever-changing emotions when the castle’s portcullis clanged open. His private musings turned into stupefied bemusement. A band of knights and guardsmen, some on horses, entered the gates. In the midst of them all, riding an unknown horse and all trussed up, was the archenemy of Camelot: King Cenred.

Merlin whirled around and headed back toward the infirmary. He needed to alert Gaius.

 

 


End file.
